En Pointe
by broadhands
Summary: Follow up fic to 'New Steps' one shot. A not so light-hearted look at Na'diakhudoshin's trials with joining the Omaticaya after passing through the Eye of Eywa, set a couple of weeks after the RDA are tossed off Pandora.
1. Chapter 1

"You move like one of the People," said an unfamiliar voice behind her, the Na'vi words sounding like the rippling of a forest stream.

It was the day after she had passed through the Eye of Eywa. Na'dia was in the midst of the Omaticaya encampment, and was feeling at something of a loss. She had always been driven by purpose, a core of self-belief from within. When she was a child, that purpose had been to strive to become a classical dancer. After the bomb, the purpose had been to survive. Once she had survived her injuries, the purpose had been to join the Avatar program, so that she could dance again, even though it would be on another world, and not in her own body – although that was not true any longer. The Avatar was now her only body, the body she would remain in for the rest of her life.

She had never been dependent on another person before, not as an adult - and now, the only person that she knew here, Txep'ean, had gone hunting, and had told her that he would return by sundown.

She turned to face the speaker, to see a smiling young Na'vi woman. Na'dia gestured and said, "I See you."

The woman returned the greeting, "I See you, Na'diakhudoshin."

"Please, call me Na'dia," she said. It seemed right to use the Na'vi pronunciation of her name rather than the human Nadia – her new purpose had to be to become a Na'vi. Not just on the outside, where it could be seen, but to be Na'vi from within her very core. "Na'diakhudoshin is my formal name, for use only in ceremonies. I am Na'dia to my friends."

Not that she had had any friends since the bomb, not until she met Txep'ean. And he was something more than just a friend.

"I am Ninat," said the Na'vi woman, her smile broadening. "I would be your friend, since you are the secret reason my brother returned late to Hometree for many weeks."

"Oh!" exclaimed Na'dia. "Txep'ean did not tell me he had a sister."

Ninat snorted derisively. "How like a man, never speaking of the important things. Instead, the talk is always of the hunt, or the agility of his ikran, or the fine arrow that he has just made. Men! Pah!"

Na'dia could not help herself. She laughed. She could not remember the last time that she had done so. It had been very difficult to laugh when every move she made had caused waves of agony to wash across her body. Even when she had been free of pain in her Avatar body, she had always been focused on her work – except for when she danced. There had never been any room for laughter, even then – only sadness for what she had lost.

"You do your brother an injustice," she said to Ninat. "He never spoke of any of these things."

"I suppose he never told you that you were pretty, either," said Ninat, her eyes twinkling.

"Well, the first time we met he told me that I was not unpleasing to the eye," replied Na'dia.

Ninat looked impressed. "He must really like you, Na'dia. He has never told any female that."

"He hasn't said anything else since then, though," confided Na'dia shyly. What was going on here? Na'dia was never like this. Was she turning into a bimbo? She was thirty-one, for goodness' sake, with a doctorate in cultural anthropology, not some giggling teenager.

Ninat huffed. "We'll have to do something about that." The Na'vi woman took hold of her by the elbow, and hustled her away to a secluded part of the encampment. "He can't have seen you in these horrible tawtute clothes. Don't you have anything nice to wear?"

Na'dia felt hot all over as she admitted, "He saw me dancing naked. I didn't think anyone was watching."

"You didn't?" exclaimed Ninat admiringly. "No wonder he liked you. You have a gorgeous body for such a small girl – even your hands are slim, in spite of the extra fingers."

It was true. She was petite for a Na'vi, just as she had been as a human.

Ninat chattered on in a stream of consciousness. "Perhaps I should try that, and accidentally let slip to some of my admirers where I might be dancing." She frowned slightly. "But I don't have your advantages. All the dreamwalker women I have seen are...quite well developed, and on you – I don't see how any of the men ever look you in the face."

"You mean when they say 'I See you' they aren't seeing my spirit?" asked Na'dia archly. She had noticed her Avatar was endowed beyond the norm for a Na'vi – but she had been impressed by the firmness and minimal jiggle of her breasts – which was pleasing from the perspective of a dancer, Perhaps the designer of the female Avatars had been a boob man. No doubt Pandora's lower gravity helped as well.

The two Na'vi girls laughed.

Ninat subjected Na'dia to a whirl of activity, elaborately braiding and beading her hair for hours, weaving colourful flowers into each braid until she looked like some exotic bird of paradise. Na'dia shrieked and giggled with faux embarrassment when she was forced to strip her clothes off to change – she didn't really mind. She liked being naked.

Her new friend was right, though. Na'vi dress drew the eyes to all the naughty bits, and it was very comfortable – especially in the heat and humidity of the forest.

"All done," announced Ninat, tugging her over to a clear pool of water. "Don't breathe on the surface, otherwise you won't be able to see yourself."

Na'dia gazed at her reflection, her braids hanging about her face. She wasn't just pretty, she was beautiful.

Ninat continued, "I don't see how my brother will ever resist you. You're gorgeous."

"Thank you, Ninat," said Na'dia. "You've been wonderful." She reached up and kissed her new friend on the lips. It was only meant to be a gentle brush of the lips, but before she knew it her arms were around Ninat's neck and they were kissing passionately, Ninat's gentle hands stroking up and down her back, making Na'dia shiver with delight.

When they broke their kiss, Ninat's eyes were gleaming like those of a palulukan at the kill. "Na'dia, would you like to...play?"

The former Avatar was positive that Ninat was not talking about a game of knucklebones. The anthropological texts on Na'vi society had said nothing about this, but Na'dia didn't care. All she could feel was the demands of her body, all reason blown to the winds. She purred, "I want you, Ninat."

Ninat drew Na'dia down to the soft ground, and they spent several hours quietly pleasuring their bodies. They did not notice any of the passers-by smile and shake their heads at the soft moans and groans, and carefully circle around the little hollow the two young women were occupying.

Afterwards, Ninat was gazing down at Na'dia's face, playfully caressing her jawline with a flower. "My brother is going to be a very lucky man," she whispered.

"He won't mind that we did this?" asked Na'dia softly.

"Oh, no," said Ninat. "All the girls play with their friends. It's just for fun, after all."

The anthropologist in her head clicked on. "Is this how the tsumuke'awsiteng are made?" She was referring to the 'circle of sisters' that Na'vi women used in adulthood for mutual support, as it was the dominant element in almost every aspect of tribal life – childrearing, status hierarchies, male hunting groups – it governed the whole functioning of the tribe. The standard text had noted that Na'vi women had refused to say how the members of each circle were selected, saying that it was secret women's business. The text did note that all the members of a particular circle appeared to be of similar ages, and suggested that each group derived from childhood or adolescent play groups.

"Of course, silly," said Ninat. "You don't know anything, do you?" She giggled again, adding, "We are going to have so much fun telling you everything!"

It seemed that the original researchers were right, at least part of the way – but not on what type of play was involved.

"Who is in your circle?" asked Na'dia curiously.

"Why do you want to know, darling?" asked Ninat evilly. "Do you want to play with all of them?"

Na'dia purred, "I really like you, Ninat, but what happens if you are hunting, and I get lonely? You would hate that to happen, wouldn't you? And I don't want to make you upset by playing with someone who isn't your friend. I really need to know."

"Oh, you wicked creature," scolded Ninat. "Anyone would think you had been born a Na'vi, instead of being some dumb tawtute dreamwalker who cannot See the hand in front of her face."

"Please," begged Na'dia. "I don't want to be on the outside." She was well aware that it was vastly different between studying a society, and actually living within it. If she stayed as an outsider, it could very well mean the difference between life and death, both for her, and for any children that she may have.

"Oh, alright," she conceded. "There's me, Peyral, and Ney'tiri." She looked sad when she added, "Seze'nang died in the fall of Hometree."

"I'm sorry," said Na'dia. Her eyes moistened in distress at causing pain to her new friend.

"It's alright, Na'dia," replied Ninat, kissing her on the forehead. "It wasn't your fault. You weren't there."

Na'dia was on the point of bursting into tears. What was wrong with her? She was an absolute mess of emotions, and couldn't think why this was happening. She stammered out, "B-but I am t-tawtute. Everyone will hate me."

"No they won't," said Ninat. "You are one of us, now. Everyone will love you – especially the men."

"Are you sure?" asked Na'dia shakily.

"Of course," replied Ninat.

"Why are you being so nice to me?" asked Na'dia. "I don't deserve it."

A calculating look appeared in her friend's eye as she admitted, "Well, my brother really likes you, and from what I heard he intends to make the bond with you, if he ever gets around to asking. Besides, there has to be four in the tsumuke'awsiteng, like fingers on a hand, and none of us really like the other possibilities. I think you will fit right in, just like an arrow on a bowstring."

"Oh, you devious minx," said Na'dia teasingly. "You have been testing me all this time."

Ninat's eyes widened, her hand touching her breast. "Who me?"

"Yes, you," accused Na'dia.

They both burst into peals of laughter.

Ninat stood up, and pulled Na'dia to her feet. "Come on, Na'dia. You have to meet Peyral, and Ney'tiri too, if we can ever get her away from mooning over her new mate, the gorgeous hunk that he is."

From her reading of the literature on the Omaticaya clan, she knew that Ney'tiri was the daughter of the Tsahik and the Olo'eyktan. She was to be mated to the next clan leader, and become the next Tsahik. It looked as though she was on the straight path to the heights of Na'vi society, at least amongst the Omaticaya.

Na'dia asked, "Who is her mate?"

"It's the Toruk Makto, silly," said Ninat. "Zhake'soolly. Everyone knows that."

God, she thought. A human? Wheelchair guy was Ney'tiri's mate? What the hell had been happening while she was out on site thirty-one? Toruk Makto? The crazy jarhead rode a great leonopteryx? She had to find out what had been happening, fast.


	2. Chapter 2

Ninat pushed Na'dia towards a stunningly beautiful Na'vi girl, wearing what she recognised as symbols of high rank – her armbands, necklace and bracelets all indicated that this girl was of the highest birth in the clan.

"Ney'tiri," gushed Ninat. "This is Na'diakhudoshin, the girl who used to be a dreamwalker that you asked me to sound out about joining our circle. We can call her Na'dia, though. Her long name is a bit of a mouthful, and difficult to say. I was going to introduce her to Peyral first before I brought her to you, but she isn't back from hunting yet."

From her short acquaintance with Ninat, Na'dia had gained the impression that the Na'vi girl bowled over any obstacle blocking her path with sheer enthusiasm and joie de vivre. But she was not dumb, by any shake of the stick. The information she had just conveyed to Na'dia in a seemingly artless manner was that Ney'tiri was the de facto leader of the tsumuke'awsiteng, and that there were unspoken reasons for the invitation.

"I See you, Na'dia," gestured Ney'tiri.

As she returned the greeting, Na'dia wondered what to do say next. Here was the real decision maker – the woman who would be the clan's next Tsahik. So she thought she would make a leading statement, to see if what she had surmised were correct. "There are reasons other than my personality why you are evaluating me for membership of your tsumuke'awsiteng."

A smile spread over Ney'tiri's face. "Txep'ean was right," she said. "You are not blind like a tawtute, not like my skxawng of a mate was when he was brought to Hometree for the first time – you see more than most Na'vi. Tell me, what do you know of the tsumuke'awsiteng?"

Na'dia outlined what she knew of the functioning of the circle of sisters, assessing Ney'tiri's expression carefully, watching the cautious expression in her eyes. She would have to go beyond what she knew from the standard sociological texts, so she guessed, "But for a Tsahik or a future Tsahik, the tsumuke'awsiteng is much more important than help with childrearing. She relies on a small number of trusted friends for advice, friends that are bound to her by more than just words, friends that will provide her with the knowledge of what happens within the tribe without her having to ask others that she may not trust."

In effect, what she was saying was that the tsumuke'awsiteng of the Tsahik were spies, or more to the point, secret police.

She added, "I have observed that Ninat is very good at collecting knowledge. Most would think that with her constant prattle that there is nothing between her ears other than air, so none would suspect her, and would thus let loose confidences that otherwise may stay firmly behind their lips, sure that she does not have the intelligence to understand the import of what they say."

Ninat pouted, "I thought I was being so careful."

Na'dia said slyly to her, "Oh, you were very good, and not just at the questioning. But I have a little more experience at knowledge gathering. I worked within a clan where what you knew of others determined your position. Without this ability, I would not have won my position as a dreamwalker, and thus would not be here talking to you."

The faculty politics at Stanford had been brutal, and it was only through some judicious blackmail that she had managed to secure her position in the Avatar program – particularly as she pointed out to the person concerned that once she had left Earth, she would no longer be a threat to him. Not to mention the brownie points he earned by recommending the application of a person with 'special needs' to such a prestigious program.

Ney'tiri asked curiously, "How old are you in tawtute years? Apart from your obvious endowments," she noted, briefly allowing her gaze to drop to Na'dia's breasts, "You appear as a female barely in her first year of womanhood."

Oh, God. Now she knew why her emotions were on an absolute rollercoaster. She was sixteen again, at the mercy of a raging flood of hormones. It had been bad enough going through that as a human, but did she really have to live through it again, this time as a Na'vi?

"I was thirty-one," admitted Na'dia.

"Hmm," said Ney'tiri. "Older than my Zhake. That is good. No-one will suspect such a young woman to be devious, particularly an ignorant tawtute." When she spoke the last phrase, Ney'tiri coolly watched Na'dia's face. "Good, you do not take offence. I have one more question."

"You want me to tell you why you want me in your circle," suggested Na'dia. At the answering dazzling smile, Na'dia added, "Your mate is Zhake'soolly, a former tawtute dreamwalker. You need a check on things that he may tell you about what the tawtute may do, so that you make the correct decisions on these matters. Also, as a secondary consideration, you want advice to understand him better, advice on how he thinks, to complete the knowledge that you may receive from him through tsahaylu."

"You are a very dangerous and ruthless woman," said Ney'tiri admiringly. "Perhaps I should be concerned over my position."

Na'dia shrugged. "I do not desire power over others," she said.

Finally, Ney'tiri asked a direct question. "What do you desire?"

"I desire three things only," said Na'dia simply, without a moment's hesitation. "I desire Txep'ean, dear friends, and the joy of the dance."

The two Na'vi women glanced at each other. It seemed the decision had been made.

Ney'tiri said, "You already have the last, the second you have just won, and the first – well, we will have to see how we can help you achieve that desire."


	3. Chapter 3

An hour or so before the evening meal, Na'dia met Peyral, the third member of the tsumuke'awsiteng. She was one of the largest female Na'vi that she had ever seen, rivalling all but the largest males in size and strength. Her features were more striking rather than pretty, although Na'dia thought that with the right makeup – or rather war-paint – she would be a knock-out, like most Na'vi females.

She had walked into camp with the carcass of a large male yerik slung across her shoulders when Ninat pointed her out. The tall woman was joking and bantering with some of the male hunters as she hung the yerik from a tree and proceeded to efficiently butcher it. Children rushed to take the pieces to the cooking fires, not a single piece of the carcass being wasted. Even the blood was collected in pottery jars for use.

Na'dia swallowed nervously. She was about to face a challenge that may impact on her acceptance in the tribe.

Ninat looked worried. "Are you feeling alright, Na'dia? You don't look well."

"I don't know how to say this," said Na'dia, feeling rather queasy.

"Say what?"

Na'dia hissed, "I don't eat meat. I never have."

Ninat grabbed her arm and dragged her aside into the shadows, where no-one could easily see them. "You don't? Why not?"

How the hell was she going to explain the rationale behind Earth-centric veganism? "Some tawtute believe that it is wrong to kill animals to eat, that their spirits should be allowed to live without the fear of being hunted by people – whether tawtute or Na'vi. So we only eat plants - seeds, roots, fruits and vegetables. It is more difficult to live, but our spirits do not bear the taint of death."

"Nga swok txe'lan," murmured Ninat, her eyes wide open with respect. "You are pure of heart." She gave Na'dia a quick embrace, and said, "Why didn't you say so, silly. This is wonderful. Few decide to take that path for it is not easy, and much honour accrues from Eywa to those that do. I know I couldn't do it. I like roast yerik too much. Does this mean you don't even eat teylu?"

Na'dia shook her head, cursing under her breath the slack bastards who did the original anthropological research on the Omaticaya. She had been dreading this moment, fearing the reaction from the clan, and there had been no need to worry at all.

"All the more for me," said Ninat happily. "Now come and meet Peyral."

"Ok," said Na'dia. "I just hope I don't throw up at the sight of all the blood."

The hunter had just finished dividing up the yerik into its parts when Ninat called out, "Peyral, have you Chosen yet? Or are you enjoying the attentions of your multitude of suitors too much to settle on only one?"

Peyral grinned at her friend, "Why? Do you want to borrow some of them? You are welcome to them. They make too much noise, scaring the game as they follow me on the hunt." Her gaze turned to Na'dia and commented, "So this is the dreamwalker girl you were chattering about this morning. She's a little one, isn't she - only a snack for a palulukan."

"A palulukan would choke on me and die," asserted Na'dia bravely. She had not missed the merry twinkle in Peyral's eye, and thought the best approach was not to submit meekly.

"Yes, I can see that," said Peyral. "Your tits are so big you would stick in his throat."

Na'dia smiled sweetly and riposted, "At least I have some."

"Ouch!" exclaimed Peyral, whose breasts were the only part of her body not built on the same generous scale as the rest of her. "She has a hellfire-wasp sting for a tongue. I See you, Na'diakhudoshin."

"I See you too, Peyral," responded Na'dia.

Ninat scolded, "Now stop playing, you two. Ney'tiri wants to talk to all of us. There is going to be some trouble tonight, at dinner. She's waiting by the river."

"Good," said Peyral. "I need to wash the blood off."

On the river bank, Ney'tiri was waiting impatiently, prowling up and down like a tiger in a zoo cage. "Good, there you all are." Her nose twitched a couple of times, and she commented, "Peyral, you smell like a carcass that viperwolves have been scavenging."

"I know, I know," said Peyral. "Just give me a moment." The large hunter slid down the bank into the shallows, and started to rinse off the grime of the hunt. "You might as well start."

"Na'dia," said Ney'tiri, "Not all the tribe are happy with having my Zhake as olo'eyktan to the Omaticaya, despite him being Toruk Makto. They hold that he is tawtute and will always be tawtute, and are angry at the losses the Omaticaya have borne through their actions. However, they are not willing to move directly against him as yet, and wish to ascertain the level of support they may receive in the event of a challenge to his leadership."

Na'dia shivered involuntarily, a cold chill running down her spine. "So someone is going to pick on the new tawtute girl, to see what happens." She had expected that something like this might happen, but not quite so soon. Not on the first day.

Ney'tiri nodded. "Yes, Na'dia. Can you fight?"

"But she is a dancer, not a warrior," objected Ninat. "She's tiny. Whoever it is going to be will make mincemeat of her." Her friend turned towards her, asking, "Na'dia, you weren't a member of the Jarhead clan like the Toruk Makto, were you?"

Ninat's words were hardly a vote of confidence, but Na'dia could not meekly submit - not now, not ever. She swallowed convulsively. "No, I wasn't a Marine," she said. "But I can fight, if I have to - if I have my shortswords." Her blades were one of the few possessions that Txep'ean had taken from site thirty-one when he had carried Na'dia's dying tawtute body to her rendezvous with the Eye of Eywa.

Peyral clambered up the bank, and slapped Na'dia on the shoulder. "That's the spirit," she said heartily. "Never say die."

"Thanks," replied Na'dia sarcastically, gingerly moving her shoulder to see if anything was broken.

Ney'tiri said in what was meant to be a consoling voice, "No-one will expect you to win, Na'dia. Just put up a good show, and don't get yourself killed."

If that was Ney'tiri's idea of encouragement, Na'dia would hate to hear what words she would use to discourage her from doing this crazy...thing.

"I think we should be heading back," said Peyral, shaking herself dry and scattering drops of water over the other three women. "They will be serving the teylu first, and I don't want to miss out again."

Ninat laughed, "Don't you ever think about anything but food, you big lummox?"

"Nope."


	4. Chapter 4

All eyes were on Na'dia as she followed Ninat and Peyral to the group of single women. An anonymous foot was slid in front of her, and she tripped. Only slamming into Peyral's broad back stopped her from falling flat on her face. Her clumsiness provoked a ripple of laughter.

"Sorry," she said to Peyral, who nodded in reply.

They found a small vacant area and squatted, waiting for the food to be passed around on leaf plates. While Peyral held the leaf for her, Na'dia picked at the some of the food, struggling to chew and swallow, and not throw up. She was shaking inside, praying that she did not show her fear. This was as bad as waiting to go on stage on opening night. No, it was worse.

She could very well die in the next few minutes.

A voice cried out, "Olo'eyktan, why is there a tawtute among the Omaticaya, lurking like a lenay'ga in the undergrowth, ready to kill us in the dark of night?"

A broad-shouldered Na'vi warrior stood up, wearing the shaven head and beads of a warrior. Na'dia was shocked to recognise wheelchair guy – Jake Sully. The only sign that he had been ever been human were his large hands, and he looked as tough and ruthless as all hell. "I See you, Tsaylu," said Sully. "I only know of Na'vi in this place."

The warrior that had called out stood. He said, "What of the dreamwalker woman? She is not Omaticaya." There was a murmur of agreement from many of the tribe.

Sully replied, "It is true. Na'diakhudoshin is not Omaticaya, though she passed through the Eye of Eywa. Can you say the same of yourself?"

Tsaylu said, "Where is the proof of that? All know that tawtute lie. They are cowardly and cunning, and are not to be trusted."

"I was tawtute," said Sully. "Do you accuse me of lying? Do you accuse me of betrayal?"

"You are Toruk Makto," said Tsaylu. "You are Omaticaya, and led the united clans to victory against the tawtute. You we do not doubt, but the dreamwalker woman we do not know."

Na'dia saw Txep'ean start to move, so she stood up before he could speak. "I am Na'diakhudoshin, warrior. Many of you here saw my tawtute body die, scarred with the fire of their science. Why should I betray the Na'vi for those that tortured me?"

"Who can know what a tawtute thinks?" snarled Tsaylu.

Calm now that she had taken action, Na'dia replied, "Do you challenge me?"

"Yes," announced the angry male.

The tribe stirred with excitement. Sully shouted over the noise, "Tsahik Mo'at shall judge the challenge. The Omaticaya cannot afford the loss of another warrior."

Tsaylu laughed, and much of the tribe laughed with him. Apparently they thought there was little chance of him losing. "Agreed," said Na'dia. "I do not wish to injure this man, if it can possibly be avoided."

This calm statement provoked even more hilarity.

A space cleared in the middle of the tribe for the mismatched two to fight.

Ninat stood by Na'dia, passing her the shortswords which she had brought into the eating place. "Why are you making him angry?" asked Ninat. "Do you know what you are doing? Tsaylu is one of the best warriors in the clan."

"He has never fought me," replied Na'dia, pretending confidence that she did not feel. The monster was well over a foot taller than her, and both out-muscled and out-massed her by a substantial margin. The only trump card she had was that Tsaylu would never have encountered taekkyon sword dancing.

She swallowed when one of his friends passed him a fighting staff, the massive weapon carrying vicious bone blades at each end. It would be difficult to get inside the reach of the weapon, although her sensei on Earth had trained her against similar staves. When she drew her blades from their scabbards, there was a disturbing murmur at the sight of the dull grey titanium alloy blades. The only metal that the Na'vi had ever seen were weapons and vehicles made by the tawtute.

Na'dia asked, "Ninat, do you know tic-tac-toe?"

"The tawtute children's game?" said her friend, her voice carrying over the noise of the tribe. "Of course I do." She looked puzzled.

"Good," said Na'dia, taking up her starting position, one blade held over her head, the other lowered, pointing at the ground, hoping like hell this was going to work, and waiting for the huge Na'vi warrior to attack.

Which he did, yelling as he ran at her, the staff raised over his head, obviously trying to dispatch her with his first blow through sheer strength. The idiot was wide open.

Na'dia spun in, not even parrying his blow, slipping inside his reach, slashing with each sword once across his chest, barely making contact, and then skidding down to the ground behind him.

Tsaylu turned, more quickly than she could have thought possible, swinging his staff low to catch her. God, he was fast. She managed to leap above the staff, somersaulting in an impossible move for a human – but not for her Avatar body. As she landed on her feet, she made another double slash downwards. The touches were so light she doubted he had even felt them, and she spun out of his reach.

"Very pretty," he sneered, ignoring the beading of blood on his chest, the cross shape of the four shallow slashes just barely visible.

"Centre," she said, waiting for him to move.

He moved more cautiously this time, trying to pick up her twitch, the indication she made before moving. But she had been taught from early childhood by one of the masters of taekkyon, a major in the Ukrainian army and fanatic martial artist. She had done it mainly to improve her strength, her agility, and her mental focus for ballet, though the lessons had stuck, even after all this time. There had been one other reason why she had submitted willingly to the relentless discipline.

She slipped under his guard again, and made two slashes, a diagonal cross appearing in the middle of the cross-hatch in the middle of his chest. This time she parried his blow, deflecting it slightly to one side into the ground, the power of Tsaylu's blow sinking the staff deep into the soil.

Ninat called out "Top right."

As she exited his reach, a small vertical cross appeared on Tsaylu's chest, this time in the top right had corner of the cross hatch.

Na'dia called out "Top left."

As she attacked while Tsaylu tugged his staff out of the soil, Ninat called out, "Bottom right."

Crosses appeared in the top left and bottom right corners, when Mo'at called out "Halt!"

The two combatants froze, and backed away from each other. The crowds was deathly silent. Na'dia whispered to herself, "Thank you, Daddy." She hoped he would be proud of her. She had tried so hard to follow his teachings, and not to use his art to hurt someone. A tear pricked at her eye as she realised how much she missed him, even after all these years.

Mo'at announced, "Na'diakhudoshin has proven herself in combat. Tsaylu, your assertion is false. Eywa has spoken."

"What!" he shouted, not believing what he heard.

The Tsahik pointed at his chest and said, "She could have slain you with any of those blows, but chose not to. Every cut was exactly where she wanted it to be."

Tsaylu stood there dumbfounded, as Na'dia bowed deeply to the Tsahik out of habit, as she always bowed to her sensei after a bout.

"Na'dia, watch out!" yelled Ninat.

She twisted out of the bow, to see Tsaylu swinging the staff down at her. There was no time. The ruthless fighting machine that her father had ingrained into her brain over sixteen years made an instant calculation. She could not sever a limb – the blades would jam on his carbon-fibre reinforced bones. If she tried to do that, the blow would not stop. There was only one thing she could do.

As she spun one blade went high, making a great cut through Tsaylu's throat, severing the major blood vessels to his brain and slashing open his gullet, the tip of the blade barely scratching the front of his vertebrae.

The other blade went low, striking less than half a second afterwards, spilling open his belly in a huge diagonal upward slash. The staff slipped from his hands and the Na'vi warrior collapsed at the knees, crashing to the ground in front of Na'dia, a wave of blood and guts covering her feet and splattering her with red.

Na'dia stopped in the same position she had started the bout, a picture of deadly grace, as a bead of blood dripped off her lower blade. The tribe was shocked by the speed with which she had despatched one of their best warriors, without apparent effort, even though she was the victim of a surprise attack and had been totally off-balance.

The petite Na'vi girl lowered her blades to her side and sank to her knees, weeping for her lost innocence.


	5. Chapter 5

Na'dia stayed on her knees, apparently struck dumb, even after Tsaylu's body had been removed, and the tribal gathering dispersed.

Peyral said to Ninat, "What's wrong with her? She just carved the crap out of that ass-hole Tsaylu. He had as much chance of beating her as a yerik does of taking down a palulukan. I would be jumping for joy, if I was her."

As she helped Na'dia to her feet, Ninat hissed back, "She is swok txe'lan. Na'dia has never killed before, not even an insect."

"Oh," replied Peyral, her normally buoyant manner subdued.

Na'dia was still shaking from the shock of the fight, her mind tortured by what she had done. She had killed a living, thinking being in an eyeblink, without a moment's hesitation. She hardly realised she was on her feet, being helped from the gathering space by Peyral and Ninat. A figure was standing at the edge of the firelight, blocking their way.

"Txep'ean," she started to say. "I..."

The man she loved stared down at her and said coldly, "Tsaylu was my friend." He spun on his heel and walked away.

The shock of his words hit her like the winter storms sweeping across the Ukrainian steppe of her youth. She started to gulp for air, sobs wracking her body as the blade hilts finally slipped from her hands. Peyral swept her up in her arms, while Ninat stooped to retrieve her blades from the ground.

Na'dia heard Ninat say, as though from a million miles away, "Don't worry. My brother will get over it. You'll be fine."

Peyral added, "Listen to what Ninat says, sweetheart. Her brother has as much brains as a sturmbeest stampede, but Ninat is right. Txep'ean will forgive you for killing the shit. Eventually."

They took the shattered young woman to their sleeping platform, where there were three people waiting for them. Mo'at was her normal impassive unreadable self, while Ney'tiri and her mate wore wry smiles.

"Khudoshin, you certainly set the cat amongst the pigeons," said Sully in English.

"My Zhake, I think you mean flew the toruk amongst the ikranay," corrected Ney'tiri. "Na'dia was not supposed to win quite that easily."

Na'dia said, "I didn't want to hurt him. I tried to show him..." her voice trailed away.

The Tsahik said calmly, "Na'diakhudoshin, you forgot that men have pride. You took his pride away, replacing it with shame, and so he had to kill you. If you had not done as you did, you would now be with Eywa."

"Perhaps I would be better off," Na'dia said bitterly.

"No, my child," averted Mo'at. "Do not wish that. Eywa has a plan for you. You must wait to find out what it is, and for that you must live."

Ney'tiri added, "Peyral, Ninat, you must care for her." The expression on her face that at least part of their duty was to prevent Na'dia from doing further damage. The Tsahik's daughter added, "At least we know who is against us now, and there is one less, thanks to Na'dia."

Sully chuckled. "Would that we could solve our problems that easily."

Mo'at gave Na'dia some fragrant smelling leaves. "Chew these, my child. They will help you sleep and ease your pain."

Na'dia did as she was told, and was soon feeling drowsy. As she slipped into sleep, she heard Mo'at talking. "Na'dia'khudoshin is alone – alone like the hunting palulukan or soaring toruk. She has forgotten what it is to be part of a People, or mayhap she never knew. To heal her, and to heal the breach within the tribe, we must make her Omaticaya. This is the will of Eywa."

Peyral objected, "But how? Na'dia is swok txe'lan, so she cannot be taronyu."

"There are other ways," said the Tsahik.


	6. Chapter 6

Na'dia was woken at false dawn by a rasping snore. She found that she was wedged between Ninat and Peyral – the origin of the jackhammer like snores. She slowly slid out from between the two women, and stood, seeing her blades leaning against a tree in their scabbards.

She had to get away. Now.

There was a flat open area by the river. That was where she should go. She needed space, to get away from people, and move.

The comfortably worn-in harness felt good across her shoulders, the scabbards slapping against her back until she shrugged it into place and fastened the buckles.

When she arrived by the river, Na'dia stood in the middle of the open space and shut her eyes, feeling the life around her. She took in a deep breath, unhurriedly releasing it until her lungs were empty, and drew her swords. Slowly, so very slowly, she moved through her katas, her eyes shut, striving for perfection of form as she emptied her mind in order to release her anguish.

If anyone had been watching, they would have seen a young Na'vi woman – no, a girl – drift across the clearing, hardly seeming to touch the ground, a picture of grace and calm as she danced through the stately measures of an alien martial art centuries old.

That was until she was almost bowled over by a small animal. Her eyes snapped open to see a mottled green animal, as large as a dog and shivering with fright, hiding behind her.

"What is it, little one?" she asked, bending down to stroke the six legged creature. Its skin was smoother than silk, the skin stretched tight over its muscles. What kind of beast was it, she wondered. And it was terrified of something, but what?

And then she heard them – the barking hyena-like cries of a nantang pack on the hunt. Running would be a mistake. They would not only kill the small animal hiding between her legs, but pull her down as well. It was not the way she wished to die.

So she waited, motionless, in the guard position, waiting for her self-declared enemy to come.

There were eleven...twelve...thirteen of them, circling her, barking as though they were discussing the best way to attack. So she waited – still, absolutely still.

Without even thinking, she moved and made one, two, three strokes with her blades, and returned smoothly to her guard position. Two nantang were writing on the ground, hamstrung, while another lay dead, its head almost entirely severed.

As one, the nantang looked in the direction that they had come, and then ran silently off, leaving the three members of the pack behind.

She stood over the two hamstrung nantang, and before striking the blow of grace, said softly, "Oeru txoa livu, ma oeyä tsmukan. Hu nawma sa'nok tivul ngeyä tirea."

Na'dia returned to the shivering animal, sheathed her blades, and sat down on the ground cross-legged. She thought it was young, whatever species it was. It crawled into her lap, making soft whimpering noises. "It's ok, little one. You're safe now," she told it, gently caressing it. Gradually, it started to relax, its shuddering ceasing, until it leapt out of her lap making joyous welcoming yips.

Na'dia looked up and froze. Towering over her was a palulukan, a thanator. The huge predator had crept up absolutely silently, glaring with hatred at her. It lifted one paw to strike her, about to end her life with a single blow of its savage claws, when the young beast growled threateningly. The palulukan's head swung sharply around as though in total astonishment. It lowered its paw and leaned forward, sniffing at Na'dia, before giving her a lick with its tongue – the texture was like sandpaper.

All through this, Na'dia did not move, her mind clear and calm. What else could she do?

The palulukan inspected the three nantang corpses, almost seeming to nod with approval, before it snapped each of them up, only taking two or three bites to crush each one into a suitable size for swallowing. It returned to Na'dia, and nudged her, clearly intending for her to get to her feet. Once she was standing, it nudged her again, pushing her in the direction across the river, away from the Omaticaya camp.

Na'dia began to walk, to receive another push, and so she began to run. And run. And run.

The palulukan, followed by her cub, urged Na'dia on, correcting her direction from time to time, running her to almost to exhaustion. She was sure she was about to collapse when she arrived in a small clearing.

There was another palulukan there, and two more cubs. When it saw the missing cub, the male – for that was what it seemed to be – blew out a great breath of air and seemed to sigh in relief. It walked over and gave the cub a gentle cuff with one paw, sending it tumbling, before it inspected Na'dia. It too sniffed at her, licked her thoroughly, and then ignored her.

She sank to the ground, and then was bowled over by all three cubs, all determined to roughhouse and wrestle with her, treating her as though she was a playmate. It was a bit like being mobbed by a litter of playful six-legged killer Labrador puppies.

It was well after dawn before the play session ended, and the three cubs curled up to sleep.

The female moved silently behind her, grabbed her queue and made tsahaylu with her. It was like plunging into a mountain stream. The palulukan's thoughts were crystal clear, its intelligence razor sharp - its focus upon her total.

"_Cub naughty - left nest. Chased by running pack. Two legs save cub. Thank two legs. Not kill."_

"It was the right thing to do," thought Na'dia.

"_Cubs like two legs. Come back nest, play often cubs. Self mark two legs as belong self. Not kill. Other selfs know two legs belong self. Not kill."_

This was surreal. A palulukan was making friends with her, and telling her to return to play with its cubs. "Yes," she thought. She would return.

"_Two legs mind like self. Sharp, focus, savage, calm. How? Like self in two legs body?"_

Na'dia cleared her mind, and then recalled the years of training she endured and loved under her father, and her dance teachers, teaching her to focus within herself, and feel her oneness with her blades and her body in the dance – until she was burnt by nuclear fire.

"_Ah. Two legs sire teach two legs like self/mate teach cubs. Long time, many seasons. Two legs is self."_

"Maybe," she thought in response. "You feel/taste/smell like my father."

"_Go now. Two legs not tell other two legs come nest. Self/mate kill other two legs. Not kill two legs belong self. Return next day."_

It was with regret that Na'dia broke tsahaylu with this huge predator. She gazed into its jet black eyes, gleaming with intelligence, and then turned to run. She did not look back.

She returned to the Omaticaya encampment at noon. It was in an uproar.

Peyral called out to her. "Na'dia, where have you been?"

"Out," she answered.

"We were worried about you," she said. "You don't know anything about the forest, and a palulukan made three kills by the river – nantang. It could have just as easily been you."

Prophetic words indeed, she thought. "Oh," she replied. It nearly had been her.

"Are you alright?" asked Peyral. "You look...different."

Na'dia felt different. She flexed her hands, and was surprised to not feel claws spring out from her fingertips. She felt clean.

Smiling, she gazed at Peyral, and felt a sudden rush of hot blood, like the anticipation before a kill. She growled softly and moved towards her new friend, rubbing herself against the large girl's body. "Want Peyral," she purred.

"Steady on," objected Peyral. "I've got things I have to do."

"Now!" snapped Na'dia, grabbing her hand and dragging her away into the undergrowth.

This was not like the gentle dalliance Na'dia had with Ninat yesterday. Na'dia attacked Peyral, ravishing the larger girl ruthlessly, bringing her to orgasm again and again, until Peyral returned the favour equally as many times.

Na'dia ended straddling Peyral's torso, gently nipping her neck and shoulders in teasing play.

Peyral's rippling laughter filled her ears. "Na'dia, if all dreamwalkers play like you, no wonder Ney'tiri is happy with her Zhake."

She smiled, kissed Peyral, and stood up. "Go now," she said, finding it difficult to talk. "Play more later."

The big girl moved to grab her, but Na'dia laughed merrily and slipped away, effortlessly evading her.

She found her way back to the clearing by the river, and began her katas again, this time watched in fascination by some of the tribe's children – at least until they were called away by worried parents. But Na'dia didn't care what they thought. Her soul felt clean for the first time in years.


	7. Chapter 7

The atmosphere at the meal gathering that evening was quite different.

Na'dia strolled into the space alone, wearing her blade harness, as though it was an empty space. It might as well been empty, for the hubbub that accompanied the evening meal was notably absent.

This time, there were no feet slid in front of her to trip over. The clanspeople drew aside, giving her space. Not because they liked her, or respected her – they feared her.

She found Ninat and Peyral without difficulty and squatted down beside them. When the leaf plates were passed around, her hand moved towards a succulent chunk of roast yerik. Na'dia had almost touched it when she realised what she had been doing, and allowed her hand to pass over it to select a piece of fruit.

The meal passed without incident. Well, almost without incident. When she left the clearing, as she ambled past Txep'ean, Na'dia paused slightly to look into his eyes, licking her lips to remove a slight purple stain of fruit. Txep'ean took in a sharp intake of breath, and Na'dia continued on her way, rolling her hips to make her point.

She felt his eyes burning into her back and smiled.

Ninat said, "That was cruel."

Na'dia's difficulties with words had largely faded during the afternoon, so she had no problem in saying, "If he wants me, he will have to give up something."

"His manhood?" asked Peyral.

"I only want to borrow it, not remove it," laughed Na'dia. "I have plans for how he should use it." More seriously she said, "He will have to give up his anger and hatred for my birth-people, and for me." Na'dia glowed inside. She had smelt his desire when she had walked past him. He didn't stand a chance.

Ney'tiri joined the three other women. "I have yet to see you dance, Na'dia, unless you call last night dancing," she complained.

"Are you tired of Zhake already?" insinuated Ninat cheekily.

"I told him I have secret women's business with you all tonight," replied Ney'tiri. "He told me the tawtute have a similar custom. They call it a 'Girls' Night Out', although he did not explain it very well, not being a woman." She gave Na'dia a sly sideways glance. "Perhaps Na'dia can explain it. She was a tawtute woman once."

Na'dia hesitated. How the hell was she going to explain a visit to a strip joint? "Ah, a group of women go to a place to talk, dance, sing and drink intoxicating liquors to the point of unconsciousness, all in the absence of men." The less said about male strippers the better. Na'dia did not want to be responsible for cross-cultural contamination of the Na'vi by human customs – especially with male strippers.

Ney'tiri commented, "They sound very much like women of the People."

"Do they play as well?" asked Ninat. "It wouldn't be nearly as much fun if we didn't play."

"Sometimes," said Na'dia weakly. There had been a question she had been pondering from her ravishing of Peyral today. "Why do the tsumuke'awsiteng play amongst themselves?"

The three Na'vi woman stopped and looked at her as though she was stupid.

"I know it sounds stupid, but I really want to know," she admitted.

Ninat shook her head sadly at the ignorance of the tawtute, and said, "If young women did not play, we would rush into mating with the first available male. Mating is for life – tsahaylu makes it thus - so we play to satisfy our urges. Just like you did today with Peyral. Otherwise we will choose the wrong mate. It has always been done thus."

Ney'tiri added, "The tsumuke'awsiteng also pass judgement on a male before allowing a woman to accept being Chosen."

"I don't remember you asking us about Zhake'soolly," said Peyral. "Even though it was obvious to all of us you had the hots for him."

The mate of the olo'eyktan objected hotly, "Why didn't you say anything then?"

"Because you would have been miserable with Tsu'tey," said Ninat bluntly. "You did not love him, and he did not love you. It was only duty for both of you. That was why we said nothing when you fell for Zhake, and he fell for you – even though you tried to throw both of our names at him."

"Oh," said Ney'tiri, crestfallen. "That's alright then."

"We're here," said Peyral, carefully putting down the two pottery jars she had been carrying, one beneath each arm. They had arrived in a small clearing adjoining a deep pool, hard up against a cliff face. Na'dia reflected that on Earth a place like this would be surrounded by exclusive gift shops and beauty spas – if any such places still existed.

"And now, Na'dia," said Ninat, lounging on the soft ground, "You shall tell us your life story."

Peyral carefully unsealed one of the pottery jars and took a small bowl offered by Ney'tiri. She dipped it into the jar, half-filling it with a thin, clear liquid, and passed it to Na'dia. "Drink!" she ordered.

Na'dia took a healthy swig. It burnt all the way down her gullet, hit her stomach and then exploded into her brain. Instantly, she felt light-headed, a loud buzzing in her head. "Wow," she exclaimed softly, as the bioluminescent colours of the forest around her seemed to glow even brighter and richer. Whatever this was, not only was it an intoxicant, it was a mild hallucinogenic as well. The bowl passed around the tsumuke'awsiteng, each member drinking deeply.

She told the circle of her childhood, the child of a warrior and a dancer, in a city of steel and glass towers and swarming people, where one rarely saw the sun or any growing thing. How she was trained from the time she first walked in the both the arts of dance and the sword, and how she chose to be a dancer. She told them of the evil men who released the fires of the sun in the midst of the city, of how she was burnt and lost her dream and all her kin.

They listened intently as she described her struggle to come to Pandora as a dreamwalker, so that she could recapture her dream, and they wept as she described falling in love with both Pandora and Txep'ean while her tawtute body was dying. The bowl had passed around the circle many times by the time she talked of passing through the Eye of Eywa, and meeting the spirit of Grace Augustine.

"I have told my tale, and now wish to hear of the Omaticaya and the tawtute," slurred Na'dia. "I am ignorant dreamwalker. It is only fair."

Stories were told of the coming of the tawtute, of Grace and her school and the murder of Sylwanin, elder sister of Ney'tiri – the death that caused the severing of contact between the two races. And then Ney'tiri spoke of the dreamwalker who became Toruk Makto.

"We arrived on the same starship," said Na'dia. "I thought he was a skxawng, who acted before he thought, and was nothing but trouble."

"You are right," replied Ney'tiri. "But my Zhake is very brave, and his body does wonderful things, especially when he is inside me."

Peyral collapsed into giggles, which turned into hiccups that could only be cured by drinking an entire bowl of the firewater. Once they had subsided, Ninat said, "Na'dia, I want to see you dance a tawtute dance - one that a woman may use to attract a mate."

"I will need music," said Na'dia, wondering how she was going to stand. There was a liana hanging from a tree in the midst of the clearing. She could haul herself up on that, she thought.

Ney'tiri produced a flute, and Peyral beat a simple, compelling rhythm on a small drum, while Ninat began to sing – her voice astoundingly pure, more lyrical than any human performer that Na'dia had heard.

Na'dia crawled over to the liana and pulled herself to her unsteady feet. At that moment, she had a brilliant idea. Long ago, a friend had taught her pole dancing – she could pole dance using this liana as her prop. She spun around the liana, swaying against it as though she was making love to it, and the music faltered. The three Na'vi women were watching in amazement and outright lust, as she shimmied up the liana, hooked a foot around it, and then let go, hanging upside down as she slowly slid back to the ground.

Once she reached the ground, she did not get up. "I'm too drunk to do anything else," she giggled. Somehow, she crawled back to the open mouthed trio and collapsed.

"I want to dance like that," announced Ninat.

"Me too," agreed the other two.

"I'm going to be sick," said Na'dia, her head spinning.

Ney'tiri said, "Don't move. We'll fix you up." She dragged over the unopened pottery jar, reached carefully in and pulled out a kali'weya, an arachnoid with a vicious stinger.

Before Na'dia could move, Ney'tiri placed the kali'weya against Na'dia's arm and allowed it to plunge its vicious stinger into her flesh. "Ow!" cried Na'dia. "Ow, ow, ow! That hurts!" Her whole arm started to grow hot and throb.

"Antidote first, then the trip, and no headache in the morning," said Ninat cheerfully. "Men are stupid. They take the antidote after the sting, instead of before, just to show how tough they are." She took the kali'weya from Ney'tiri, and allowed it to sting all three of them, before she carefully placed it back in the pottery jar.

Magically, Na'dia's head began to clear, and then she cried out, "Oh, god! OH GOD!" Her breasts and groin grew incredibly hot and pulsed with every heartbeat, burning to be touched. She clamped her thighs together and screamed in delight, as her body convulsed in incredible pleasure. Na'dia found herself in Ney'tiri's arms, gazing into her huge golden eyes, and then everything disappeared into a confusion of writhing limbs, soft lips, wet tongues and exquisite sensation.


	8. Chapter 8

There were voices talking and the sound of water splashing as she slowly struggled from unconsciousness.

"Hey, sleepyhead," called out Ninat from the pool, as Na'dia sat up. "Welcome back."

Peyral added, "Come on in. The water is fine."

The early morning sun dappled the clearing in patches of golden light and shadow. The memories of what she had done last night hit her like a hammer. Na'dia could not believe that she had been so...voracious, so carnal, but now all she felt was lightly refreshed and relaxed, with no after effects other than a slight soreness in her arm where she was stung. She reflected that if the combination of the firewater and the kali'weya stinger could be bottled and sold to Earth, it would blow all the illegal drugs into oblivion. Assuming it worked on humans, of course.

It was no surprise that she was naked.

The three Na'vi women were bobbing about in the pool, so it seemed the reasonable thing to join them. She felt a warm glow of affection for each of them, and said softly, "I See you, sisters."

Each of them in turn swam over, embraced and kissed her, and replied, "I See you, sister."

Ney'tiri, who had greeted her last, added, "Welcome, Na'diakhudoshin. You are now one of the tsumuke'awsiteng."

"Thank you," she replied. That was a hell of a sorority initiation ceremony. "How often do you do this?"

"Uniluke?" said Ney'tiri. "Two times a month, we do this."

"Wow!" murmured Na'dia. No wonder the Na'vi women always looked so happy.

"Yeah, if we don't have Uniluke now Ney'tiri is mating with her Zhake like a yerik cow in heat every night," said Peyral, "She will have a little Omaticaya in nine months."

Understanding unfolded in Na'dia's brain. Uniluke was how the Na'vi controlled their numbers, and was the origin of the power of the tsumuke'awsiteng in Na'vi society, of why it was central to almost every aspect of Na'vi life.

A wistful expression appeared on Ney'tiri's face. "If you three will hurry up and Chose," she said softly, "Then I can bring forth a gift for my Zhake, as can each of you for your mates."

Na'dia had never considered the natural outcome of her love for Txep'ean, but thought of having a child with him filled her heart with longing. She wanted a child, and why couldn't the stupid man See that she loved him, and wanted to give him the greatest gift a woman could?

"By the look on her face, our new sister has already Chosen," said Ninat. "My brother Txep'ean, despite his occasional stupidity and his poor choice of friends, is a fine man for her. He is a good hunter and provider, and both kind and generous."

"Txep'ean is very big," said Peyral suggestively. "Na'dia will enjoy that."

Na'dia frowned. Ninat's brother was only a little larger than the average Na'vi male, when it dawned on her that Peyral was referring to his...maleness. She started to glow hot with embarrassment, as Ney'tiri said, "Well, you would know, Peyral. You're always lurking in the undergrowth watching the young men bathe."

"Hey," objected Peyral. "I want to know what I am getting in a man. Besides, it's no crime to look, as long as I don't touch. And they all look so damn good."

"How big is Zhake?" asked Ninat innocently.

Ney'tiri's face darkened slightly as she admitted, "Bigger than Txep'ean."

Ninat whistled appreciatively. "No wonder you Chose him. My brother has one of the biggest in the clan."

"I gather all of you have watched the young men bathe," said Na'dia drily, astonished at the earthiness of the conversation. The Na'vi were not reticent when it came to talking about sex - or doing it, for that matter.

All three women grinned happily at her.

"When do I get to see them?" complained Na'dia.


	9. Chapter 9

While the others of the tsumuke'awsiteng were returning to the Omaticaya encampment, Na'dia slipped away unnoticed. She had given a promise, and she meant to keep it – never mind that the keeper of the promise was one that she had no intent of angering. The consequences of not keeping a commitment to that one, although they had not been stated, were beyond consideration.

Na'dia took care to cover her tracks, running over areas of bare rock and through streams so as to leave no sign of her passing. She had no intention of allowing anyone to follow her on this journey. It would be very bad for their health.

As she ran, she thought of her new sisters. Already, she felt as though she was bound to them with bonds so strong they could not be cut, and she could not imagine betraying them. No wonder the Omaticaya women had refused to tell the tawtute anthropologists of the secret women's business surrounding tsumuke'awsiteng. It seemed that Uniluke had substantial side-effects - side-effects that worked directly on the emotional centres of the brain, imprinting behavioural patterns directly in the subconscious.

Before she knew it, she was greeting by the yipping of three palulukan cubs. They bowled her over, licking and nipping gently at her, making her laugh with joy. They romped together up and down the clearing, jumping and pouncing and wrestling in rough play. The cubs soon tired out and flopped on to the ground around her, and then she felt a prickling between her shoulder blades.

She slowly turned her head and saw the female palulukan standing behind her, its jaws gaping in amusement. It strolled around her three times, and lay down, curled protectively around her and the cubs. One of its queues snaked towards her own and they linked. Na'dia shivered as their minds joined, and it spoke.

"_Two legs keeps promise. Good. Self no need kill two legs."_

A picture of rending and tearing of flesh projected down into Na'dia's brain, followed by a sense of vast amusement when she thought back, "Duh!"

"_Two legs not born of Eywa?"_

"No. I was born off-world, a human." Na'dia projected the vast distance that she had travelled, and pictures of her birth world.

"_Self wishes to learn of two legs from sky. Self will teach forest to ignorant two legs. Only fair."_

"Agreed."

If Na'dia had thought she had been closely linked with the palulukan, she had been sorely mistaken. The consciousness of the palulukan flooded into her brain, riffling through her memories like a speed reader riffling through the pages of a book.

"What are you doing?" she queried cautiously.

"_Self copy two legs knowledge. Self will need two legs to explain. Now will return favour."_

A flood of information crashed into Na'dia's mind. Suddenly she knew the easiest way to kill an adult bull hammerhead, the properties of all the plants in the forest, and how to stalk and kill every large animal on Pandora – including the Na'vi. Yes, she knew lots of ways to kill now.

Overlaid with the knowledge, she felt a vague sense of dissatisfaction from the palulukan.

"_Two legs brain not right. Deaf two legs not hear Eywa properly. Self will fix. Too hard to teach if two legs cannot hear Eywa."_

Suddenly, Na'dia felt as though one of the palulukan's paws was gripping her skull hard, while a long claw thrust through one ear and then scrambled her brains into mush. "Gah," she said aloud, her face twisting as though she was sucking on lemons.

"_Better. Two legs hear Eywa now."_

Slowly Na'dia became aware of energy flowing all around her. She could feel the life in the trees, insects and worms crawling through the soil beneath her, and the blazing presence of the palulukan – not to mention the bright little fires of her cubs. She could feel the presence of every living thing within two bowshots of her body. She had been blind and deaf, and now she was not. No, it was more than that. She was the forest, and the forest was her.

"_Now two legs answer self questions."_

The palulukan subjected her to a barrage of questions. She demanded answers in incredible detail. Many of the areas of her curiosity were to be expected – about tawtute weapons and tactics, but many others were surprising. She was particularly taken with the concept of writing and books, that it was possible to store knowledge on non-living things, and wanted to know how many books existed. When Na'dia told her that they were as countless as the stars in the sky, she felt a feeling from the predator that she did not expect – a sense of awe at such a volume of knowledge.

Na'dia felt as though she was a damp tea-towel that was being wrung out of all moisture. The palulukan sensed her mental exhaustion, and stopped her questions.

"_Self wishes two legs to dance with claws. Two legs will be rested after dance, then self will teach two legs to stalk."_

Na'dia slowly stood up, the sense of the forest all around her. She broke tsahaylu, and walked into the middle of the palulukan's clearing, and drew her swords. Clearing her mind of everything, she surrendered to the forest, her cup empty, and began to dance, each move slow and deliberate and complete and perfect.

She could feel the rapt attention of the palulukan and her cubs as she danced, and her spirit blazed with the joy of living.

Na'dia Saw.

When she stopped dancing, she opened her eyes, not realising they had been shut. The palulukan beckoned her with one paw to leave the clearing and Na'dia knew that the cubs would be safe. The mate of the palulukan had been on watch all this time.

They flowed together through shadows of the forest, two deadly creatures moving almost as one.

Upwind of them, she felt the energy of an old male yerik, expelled from the herd for the crime of being past his prime. The palulukan gave her a gentle nudge, indicating that it was to be her kill. Na'dia eased through the thick undergrowth, stalking the yerik, hiding her thoughts as being those of the trees around her. She did not make a sound.

Na'dia was standing right behind it, and it had no idea she was there. She leapt onto its back, making it rear in sudden alarm as she grabbed its small head and gave it a sudden twist to break its neck with a loud 'crack'.

The yerik slumped into death beneath her, and she felt its life dissipate into the forest, returning to Eywa. It was at that moment she realised that the Na'vi were right. Nothing was ever lost – Eywa gathered life energy back to herself at the moment of death and embraced it.

The soft footfalls of the palulukan came towards her, until she was standing next to Na'dia. Almost without thinking, Na'dia linked queues in tsahaylu.

"_Not bad. Two legs learn fast. Now carry kill back to nest."_

Na'dia looked down at the yerik carcass with dismay. It weighed almost as much as she did. The palulukan snorted with amusement.

"_Two legs kill. Two legs carry."_

She sighed and broke the bond, before she bent down, grabbed the carcass by its legs and flipped it over her head across her shoulders, her knees flexing as she took up the weight. It was a long walk back to the clearing, and she was glad to finally dump the carcass. The palulukan pointed one of its fingers, causing a claw to spring out, and used it to slit open her kill. The cubs fell on the meal with glee, burrowing into its body and hauling out its innards.

While she was watching the cubs eat the meal that she provided, the palulukan briefly linked with her again.

"_Go now. Return in three days, and every three days afterwards. Two legs has much to learn."_

Na'dia nodded, and abruptly left.

On her run back to the Omaticaya bank, she saw her outgoing trail with the eyes of a forest creature. For all the care she had taken, she might as well have driven a bulldozer through the forest. Now she knew how to move without leaving a trace of her passage, and made doubly sure by stopping at a stream to wash off the scent of the palulukan nest. There was no point in making it easy for people to guess where she had been.

When she returned, the tribe was beginning to gather for the evening meal, and Na'dia realised she had not eaten all day.

Ninat caught sight of her and called out, "Na'dia, where have you been?"

There was only one answer she could give. "In the forest. Learning."

Her sister looked at her strangely, but did not question Na'dia further.

It was disconcerting being around all the members of the tribe, feeling their life force surround her. She wanted to run and escape them, but somehow managed to stay still in place. However, it was with not a little surprise that when Jake and Ney'tiri came into the gathering space, their energy blazed brightly, as bright as that of her sensei, the palulukan. She decided that if they could take being shut in by so many, then so could she.

Tonight there was no disturbance at the meal, although when the tribe was dispersing, Mo'at caught at her arm. "Na'diakhudoshin, you are different."

Na'dia struggled to find words. It was not easy to speak after communicating with her sensei through the bond. Words did not have the proper meanings anymore. "Have found sensei, teacher, Tsahik," she replied. "Can See now."

Mo'at's eyes narrowed, and her hand started to move towards the blade of truth that she wore as part of her regalia, only to find that her left hand was held gently but firmly by Na'dia's right. "No," said Na'dia softly. If anyone could uncover who was teaching her, it would be Mo'at.

The Tsahik looked deep into her eyes, seeing something of the strangeness of the last two days in them – the strangeness of a wild predator living in the body of a Na'vi. She went to take a step backwards, so Na'dia released her. "What are you?" whispered Mo'at.

"Self," replied Na'dia, smiling, as though that was everything Mo'at needed to know. She turned away, eager to find her way to the sleeping platform. She was tired, and wanted to sleep.

As Na'dia walked away, Mo'at studied her movement. She had noted that unlike most dreamwalkers, Na'diakhudoshin had moved like the People, with an awareness of herself and her part in Eywa's plan. She did not move like that now. Instead, she flowed sensually, sliding effortlessly through space as though space and Na'dia were the same being. Mo'at had only seen one creature in all her life that had moved like that. "Palulukan," she whispered to herself, and was afraid.


	10. Chapter 10

It was cool just before dawn. Na'dia was waiting for the sun to rise, by the river where she had first encountered her sensei. She started some stretching exercises to warm up. There was no point in getting injured through sloth or carelessness, by letting the cool of the morning air set in her muscles.

It would have been pleasant to have mirrors and a barre, though her acquisition of a tail, and the new awareness of the life energy around her made both unnecessary. She was totally aware of what her body was doing, and her balance and form were perfect.

She cocked her head to one side to consider what she would dance this morning. Ballet seemed unsatisfying somehow – at least dancing by herself. She needed a dance partner, soon. Na'dia grinned ferally to herself. Today she would advance her campaign to attract Txep'ean to her side. It would be fun to tease him.

So katas it was.

As she danced across the cool grass, Na'dia became aware that she was being watched. Two faint little pinpricks of life energy were trying very hard to be invisible and remain hidden...over there. She moved gracefully over to the bush that concealed the sparks from view and stopped.

"I See you," she said.

The bush rattled its branches as though it was embarrassed to have been noticed, and two children reluctantly stepped out from its concealment, one boy and one girl, and mumbled the Na'vi greeting. They looked like brother and sister.

Na'dia frowned slightly. What should she do next? That's right - names were important. She should ask them their names.

"What are you called?"

The boy, who was the elder, was Ralu, while his sister was Tanhi.

Na'dia sheathed her blades and squatted, so she could look them in the face. She said, "If you wished to watch dance, hiding was not needful."

Tanhi said, "We are not supposed to be here."

Ralu added, "Sempu says you are evil, like all tawtute, and not to be trusted. But you do not look like tawtute."

"I was tawtute once," said Na'dia. "I am not tawtute now."

"What are you?" asked Tanhi in her childish, piping voice.

She was struck by the question, the same question that Mo'at had asked her last night. The answer that she gave to the Tsahik did not seem right for these questioners, so she gave the best answer she could to the young girl. "I don't know." She smiled, adding, "I hope to know soon. Would you like to help me find out?"

"Yes," they chorused together.

"Come," she beckoned, leading them into the middle of the open space. "Come, and do as I do." Na'dia showed the siblings the very first pattern she had learnt from her father. "Now, slowly." She faced them as they moved through the figure. "Again."

"Ralu, good," she said, the boy looking pleased at the compliment. "Tanhi, feel from here." Na'dia pressed her hand against her abdomen, but the young girl looked confused. She reflected that it was hard the first time, so she knelt by Tanhi, and looked into her eyes. "Feel from your centre, Tanhi."

Na'dia took Tanhi's hand and placed it below her diaphragm. "Breathe. Know where you are." The girl took a deep breath and slowly let it out.

"I feel it," said Tanhi, her pretty face serious.

"Good. Again," she ordered, standing up.

She showed the two children some more basic patterns, and led them through the motions, gradually speeding them up as they gained more confidence.

"Weave the patterns together, and we will dance," she said calmly.

Na'dia drifted across the green sward, followed by the two children, dancing the simple patterns of her childhood. She felt a sense of rightness, a sense of completion in what she was doing – at least until she felt two Na'vi run up to the river clearing and stop dead.

She brought the dance to a close, and turned around. An adult female was watching, her hand anxiously covering her mouth, while her mate glared angrily at Na'dia. She gestured to the children, who turned about to see their parents.

"Sa'nu! Sempu!" they cried out, and ran towards the anxious adults. Tanhi threw herself at her father, whose face magically softened as he swept her up in a tight embrace. Her brother was more reserved, as befitting a future man of the Omaticaya, and merely took his mother's hand.

"What were you doing? You know you aren't supposed to wander from the camp," scolded their mother. "There is much danger. It is not like Hometree."

Tanhi said proudly, "We were helping Na'dia find out who she is."

"Don't be silly, Tanhi," said her father. "What have I said about making up stories?"

Na'dia had walked quietly towards the family, almost unnoticed. "Tanhi tells the truth," she said. "Ralu and Tanhi were helping discover what I am."

"I apologise," said her father stiffly. "Our children should not have disturbed you. They will not do so again."

"But Sempu," they both complained. "We were having fun."

"Shhh," said Na'dia. "Do as your parents tell you."

Both children looked crestfallen, and Tanhi began to sniffle, tears welling in her eyes. Their mother looked at her mate with an anguished expression. It was clear that she was not proof against the tears of her daughter. She said, speaking to her mate, "Perhaps, if it is no trouble, they could come and help Na'diakhudoshin look for herself again, tomorrow."

He was no more armoured against his daughter than his mate. "If it is no trouble," he said finally.

Making a gesture of assent, Na'dia said, "You are welcome to watch us search."

Their father nodded. "Come, offspring," he said. "It is time to eat."

Na'dia watched the family walk back to the camp. She had spoken truth to the adults. The two children had helped her discover something about herself. Na'dia smiled, drew her swords, and resumed her interrupted katas.


	11. Chapter 11

Her stomach was as empty as a drum, and it appeared that she had missed breakfast. Again.

Na'dia caught sight of Ninat carrying an empty basket, heading away from the camp. She ran after her friend, catching up with her as she entered the forest.

Ninat jumped slightly when Na'dia appeared silently by her side. "Where have you been?" asked the startled young woman.

"Dancing by river," she answered. "Hungry. Missed breakfast again."

"Well, you're lucky you bumped into me," said Ninat. "I'm just going out to gather some fruit. You can eat some of the extras."

"I know," said Na'dia. "Basket."

"What is it with the short sentences?" asked Ninat. "You could talk the hind leg off a hammerhead a couple of days ago, but now you are struggling to get a word out."

Na'dia frowned. How was she going to tell her friend that the palulukan had rewired her brain, and words wouldn't cooperate with her thoughts now? "Changes," she said. "Going through changes. Difficult to adjust. Sometimes words easy, sometimes not. Na'vi not birth language." She knew that she would be struggling to speak either English or Ukrainian now, but did not choose to tell Ninat that fact. There was such a thing as giving up too much information, even to a friend like Ninat.

"I suppose going through the Eye of Eywa is a bit stressful, seeing your tawtute body die, and then we plunge you right into Uniluke," mused Ninat. "That's enough to unsettle anyone. Perhaps I should take you to see Mo'at, and see if everything is ok."

"No!" she said vehemently, her reaction to the suggestion causing Ninat to half turn towards her in surprise. Na'dia smiled apologetically, adding, "Not want to waste time of Tsahik. Self will be alright in day or two."

"Ok," said Ninat. "But if you're not more coherent in a few days I'll drag you to see the Tsahik, willing or not."

"Yes," agreed Na'dia. She grabbed at Ninat's free hand and squeezed it warmly. "I enjoyed Uniluke, very much. I look forward to next 'Girl's Night Out'."

Ninat looked happy on hearing those words flow smoothly out of her mouth, and even happier at the words that Na'dia said next.

"Does Txep'ean bathe with the other young men today?" asked Na'dia shyly.

His sister chuckled. "As it happens," she said, "I believe the young men are bathing after the hunt this afternoon, and I just happen to know the location of their favourite swimming hole."

Na'dia's stomach rumbled discordantly. Ninat smiled, and passed her a strip of nikt'chey. "Here," she said. "I think you will faint from hunger if I make you wait any longer."

Na'dia tore into the strip of dried spiced fruit hungrily. It was delicious. "Irayo, Ninat," she said, thanking her from the bottom of her heart – or more to the point, her stomach.

The rest of the day they spent gathering and eating fruit – that is, Ninat gathered fruit and Na'dia ate it. Ninat hardly shut up, chattering gaily about all the good and bad features of the young men of the Omaticaya, and which males she was considering. It sounded as though she wanted all of them – or alternatively, a composite male made up of all the good bits and none of the bad. Na'dia was happy to let her chatter. It meant that she didn't have to hold up her end of the conversation, and there was something vaguely comforting in the normality of Ninat's words - although Na'dia did find the more she spoke to Ninat, the easier the words came.

The only time Ninat was quiet was when they approached the swimming hole in the river. Her timing was perfect. The young men had just arrived from the rigours of the hunt, and were even now stripping off their loincloths and plunging into the river, shouting and jesting. Na'dia and Ninat were perched in a tree overlooking the swimming hole in perfect concealment. At least one would have thought so, except Na'dia noticed that none of the young men looked in their direction.

She whispered, "Do they know we are here?"

Ninat whispered back, "Of course they know. They are hunters of the Omaticaya clan. That is why they are showing off so much."

Na'dia caught sight of Txep'ean, and the breath caught in her throat. He truly was a handsome male. She could not help herself from leaning forward to get a better look. She just wanted to grab that - her grip slipped around the branch she was holding onto and she almost fell off, and was unable to finish her lascivious thought.

Ninat giggled as Na'dia fought to stay in the tree, making the branch they were in bounce merrily up and down. "L-last time I came with P-peyral," she stuttered with laughter, "She f-fell out of the t-tree."

Na'dia had managed to pull herself back up to safety. "What happened?" she asked curiously.

"They all rushed over to make sure she wasn't hurt," answered Ninat. "Peyral said the close up view was wonderful. She told me next time she came she was going to fall out of the tree again."

That sounded so much like Peyral. Na'dia wondered if she could fall out of the tree close to Txep'ean. She wouldn't mind being rescued by him, although that might seem a little too desperate. She didn't want him to think that she was pining away for him. Instead, she wanted to make him suffer, just a little bit.

"Why isn't she here?"

"Peyral has Chosen a mate – Tareyu. She is waiting for him to declare himself, and then they will mate before Eywa," said Ninat. "She has decided that she has to behave, although she complains all the time to me that it is very boring being good."

"What about you?" asked Na'dia. Ninat was one of the most attractive young women in the tribe. Surely she had a favourite who reciprocated her affections.

"I have not decided as yet," admitted Ninat. "I may have to mate outside the clan."

A lump rose into Na'dia's throat at the prospect of losing Ninat, until she remembered that Na'vi custom in such cases was for the male to join the female's clan. It seemed that this was another influence of the tsumuke'awsiteng. It was far preferable to take males from other clans rather than pull apart a viable tsumuke'awsiteng, and Na'dia could see why. If all women felt as she did about her sisters in the circle, there was no way any of them would ever give their sisters up to another clan.

"They are getting ready to leave. We have to go," hissed Ninat. "We have to be back at the camp before them. Otherwise everyone will know."

"But everyone does know," objected Na'dia.

"Of course they do, but we don't have to shove in their faces the fact that we like looking at naked young men," answered Ninat.

This seemed like normal warped female logic, thought Na'dia, worthy of any of the human girls she knew in her youth. There really was no response she could give that Ninat couldn't refute, so she just let it go. Although...

"Why don't you go on ahead?" suggested Na'dia. "I'm an ignorant tawtute who doesn't know how a woman of the Omaticaya should comport herself. You could claim I slipped away before you told me the rules about looking at the young men."

"Damn," said Ninat, with no little envy. "That's a great excuse. I wish I could use it – for me, that is."

"Off you go," said Na'dia smugly, shooing her away.

Ninat grumbled a couple of times, before making a speedy exit.

Once her friend had gone, Na'dia idly watched the young men get dressed, although it wasn't nearly as interesting as watching them remove what little clothing the average Omaticaya taronyu wore. One of the men yelled out to Txep'ean to hurry up – his answer was to shake his head and wave his fellow taronyu to go on ahead without him.

Txep'ean stood by the edge of the water, watching it flow by, his back to her. He bent to pick up a stone, and threw it, skilfully skipping the smooth stone eleven times across the water on to the other bank. This was the first opportunity that Na'dia had of talking to him alone since leaving the Tree of Souls. She dropped silently to the ground to walk towards him.

She was still a couple of paces behind him when in an apathetic tone he said, "I See you, Na'diakhudoshin."

Suddenly she boiled with fury, and wanted to rip out his throat, barely managing to contain her rage. "Do you?" she asked. "_Do you?_ I don't think so."

He turned to face her, his face twisted in distaste at her rudeness, "Just what I expect from a faithless tawtute," he sneered. "Nothing but insolence."

"I wasn't the one who promised to heal a wounded soul," she said in a low, dangerous voice. "I wasn't the one who left to go hunting, leaving the stranger alone in a nantang pack of vicious politics. I wasn't the one who let his best friend try to kill the woman he professed to love. You talk about faithless – you should look into a still pool, and tell me what you see. It will not be my face in the water."

Her words were so cruel and true they almost drew blood. Txep'ean took an involuntary step backwards from the savagery of her attack. But Na'dia could not stop now, her voice rising in tone, stepping forward with each accusation, driving him back.

"The only people that greeted me were the women of the tsumuke'awsiteng, and that was at the behest of Ney'tiri, not you. What did you do to help me enter the clan? Did you introduce me to your sister, your parents, your uncles and aunts?

"You See nothing – you, an Omaticaya taronyu, the beloved of Eywa, Sees less than a rock," she snarled. "Do you See my pain? Do you See my loneliness? Do you See nothing but yourself? Did you ever even See the love I have for you?"

Na'dia's voice cracked on her last accusation, tears welling from her eyes, her chest heaving, but she refused to sob. She would not give him the satisfaction of knowing how deeply he had wounded her.

Txep'ean was struck dumb by her attack.

"You See now, faithless one," whispered Na'dia. "A Na'vi shown how to See by filthy tawtute scum. I hope it hurts."

Na'dia turned to quickly walk away, her head held high and proud. She did not even think about looking back.

If she had, she would have seen tears trickling down the face of the man she loved.


	12. Chapter 12

As soon as she was in the cover of the forest, Na'dia began to run, hardly able to see where she was going through the tears flooding from her eyes, tripping and stumbling over roots and through the undergrowth. She had screwed everything up – nothing would ever be right again. Her adolescent hormones had flared up, whipsawing her emotions so badly she could not control what she said. She had just needed to lash out, to hurt him as badly as he had hurt her, and she had succeeded totally. Txep'ean would never forgive her brutal words.

She ran straight through the encampment, heedless of all the curious looks she received, until she stopped at the sleeping platform.

Ninat was there, seated gracefully on the platform, rebraiding her hair. She took one glance at Na'dia's distressed expression, at the tears running down her face, and said, "What is it, darling?"

Na'dia was almost incoherent, struggling and stammering to get the words past her sobbing. "I t-talked to Txep'ean. W-we f-fought. I s-said such horrible th-things. He'll n-never t-talk to me again."

Her sister of the circle rose and embraced her. "Shhh," she said. "It will all be ok."

With the sympathy and kindness she was receiving from her friend, Na'dia totally lost grip of any remaining reserve she had, and broke down totally. Peyral appeared, and was about to ask what was happening, when Ninat hissed, "Get Mo'at. Tell her to bring a sedative, something to help her sleep."

Peyral started, "Wha..."

Ninat snapped, "My shit of a brother happened, that's what. Now go get Mo'at."

Na'dia was still wracked by sobbing when the Tsahik appeared with Peyral. She took one look at Na'dia, poured a small amount of viscous liquid from a bottle into a cup, and said, "Drink this, Na'diakhudoshin."

Somehow she managed to swallow the bitter tasting liquid. Whatever it was, it was fast acting – she felt drowsy almost instantly, her body going limp in Ninat's arms. Na'dia felt herself lowered to the floor of the sleeping platform, and vaguely heard the three women talking while she dozed.

Mo'at said, "Nadia'khudoshin is in great emotional distress. I assume your brother is the cause."

"Yes," replied Ninat. "I managed to get that much out of her, although she was so overwrought she couldn't give me any details."

"It is very difficult for her, to be turned back into a girl on the cusp of womanhood when she was a full-grown adult," said Mo'at. "It is hard, even for a one born a Na'vi, to go through that age. One's emotions are always raw at that time, and when one such as Na'diakhudoshin has suppressed all feeling for many years, it is even worse – especially when she has fallen so deeply in love."

"What can we do?" asked Peyral.

"All any good friend can," replied the Tsahik. "Be there when she needs you, and love her as a sister. She is more vulnerable than most to hurt, so one or both of you should stay with her tonight. Do not leave her alone."

"Peyral," ordered Ninat, "I'll stay with her now. You go to dinner tonight and bring back some food and drink, in case she wakes and is hungry later tonight. I found some utu'mauti fruit, so bring that back for her. She will like that."

"But the utu'mauti is yours!" objected Peyral, referring to the custom that only the finder of the utu'mauti was entitled to eat it.

"She needs it more," replied Ninat.

The conversation faded out for a while, to be replaced by a different voice.

"I wish to speak to Na'diakhudoshin," said a male voice.

Ninat replied sharply, "She isn't talking to you."

The male voice replied back, "She said hurtful things..."

He was interrupted by the sound of a face being slapped.

"I have no doubt that you deserved everything that my sister said to you, brother," snapped Ninat.

Who was Ninat speaking to? Na'dia was sure that it was someone important and tried to rouse herself, but could not.

"I had reason to doubt her," said the male in a defensive tone. "She was tawtute, and she killed Tsaylu..."

Someone's face was slapped again, even harder.

Ninat's voice was as cold as steel. "Your so-called friend the murderer," she said, using the most vile word in Na'vi for a despicable, cowardly killer, "Yes, the murdering beast Tsaylu, the one who tried to kill a girl half his size from behind, with no warning. The beast with no honour received a better death by far than the one he deserved – the agonising death that all such cowards warrant."

"But she was tawtute..." he objected.

There was a third slap. It sounded hard enough to loosen teeth.

"Kawng skxawng, Na'dia swok txe'lan. My sister does not eat meat, and until she met your friend the murderer, she had never killed anything – not an insect, or even a worm. She has more honour in one of her fingers than you have in your entire body." Na'dia could hear that Ninat's voice was laden with thinly veiled disgust. "There is only one thing that is stopping me from calling a conclave of all tsumuke'awsiteng to judge your fitness to be a male of the Omaticaya, and it is not that you are the brother of my blood. The reason is that my sister Na'dia still loves you, and you are not worthy to tread in her footsteps."

"Do not say a word," said Ninat. Whoever it was must have opened his mouth to speak. "If you had treated any woman of the Omaticaya as you have treated her, the woman who saved your life, the conclave would banish you from the clan. Now go, and pray for forgiveness to Eywa that Na'dia will forgive you, because I will not."

Na'dia felt Ninat lay down behind her and snuggle into her back. She asked sleepily, "Who was that?"

Ninat said softly, "No-one important, dear heart. Now go back to sleep."

So she did.


	13. Chapter 13

The arc of Polyphemus glowed in the sky, illuminating the night in a soft blue light when Na'dia stirred. It was either very late, or very early – Na'dia wasn't sure which, but she was surprised when she awoke to see Ninat's warm, golden eyes hovering mere inches away.

"Oel ngati kameie," murmured Ninat. She moved across to kiss Na'dia, her soft lips parting, and her arms sliding around Na'dia's neck. Na'dia found her mouth penetrated by a warm tongue, caressing the interior of her mouth, and her eyes closed to enjoy the intimacy of the moment.

They shot open again when Peyral whispered into her ear, "Oel ngati kameie," and proceeded to bite gently on her shoulder, while one large four-fingered Na'vi hand crept around from behind to cup and gently squeeze her breast. The objection she was about to make turned into a growl of pleasure deep in her throat, which turned into a series of purrs as multiple hands wandered across her torso, teasing and caressing every square inch of skin.

Ninat released Na'dia's lips, allowing Na'dia to turn to kiss Peyral the same way. "Are you hungry, my sweet?" whispered Ninat, whose hands slid down her back to briefly stroke her buttocks and tail, before sliding between Na'dia's legs. An explosion of lust, of wanton need, blew away what little remained of rational thought, and Na'dia gave herself up to exquisite sensation at the hands of her two sisters of the tsumuke'awsiteng.

Na'dia was breathing hard, her skin soaked with sweat, when they finally relented. Ninat smiled at her, greeting her return with a gentle, "Kaltxi. How do you feel?"

"Stretchy," she answered, and proceeded to demonstrate, before she remembered what had happened with Txep'ean, and her face fell.

Peyral saw the change in expression, and said, "Don't be sad, Na'dia. We want you to be happy."

Ninat added, "My brother came around to apologise while you were asleep." Na'dia started, only to place a restraining hand on her shoulder, preventing her from rising. "No, don't run after him. He has a lot to learn about how to treat a woman. I sent him away with a flea in his ear to think on his misdeeds, and to work on his delivery."

"What did you say to him?" asked Peyral to Na'dia. "I've never known Txep'ean to apologise to anyone. He has always been the high and mighty warrior – always right, never wrong. Your words must have had quite an impact."

Na'dia haltingly told them what happened on the banks of the swimming hole.

"Wow," said Peyral. "I wish I'd been there to see it. He wouldn't have known what hit him."

"But I've ruined everything," said Na'dia, almost wailing.

"No you haven't," replied Ninat. "You have just brought – very powerfully - to his attention that you are a person with needs and feelings, and if he wishes a future with you, he has to consider someone else other than himself. I am not going to allow my brother to walk all over any woman, especially one of my tsumuke'awsiteng, no matter how good looking he is. The words you used on him were long overdue."

"What if doesn't want me?" whispered Na'dia anxiously.

"Oh, yes he does," said Peyral. "He can't take his eyes off you. The girls on the hunt yesterday were giggling about how the tawtute hater is mooning after you like a lovesick boy. The ikran changing his colours has nothing on Txep'ean."

"So what do I do now?" she asked, her expression doubtful. All her years of training in anthropology and psychology had deserted her, it seemed, leaving what was left of her brains to rattle around inside her empty skull. This whole being a teenager again totally sucked.

"That's easy," said Ninat. "You go about your normal life, and wait for him to apologise to you. If the apology is good enough, and he really means it, tell him he is on probation. Then make him work to win you, and if after a few weeks he is really good, reward him with a kiss – on the cheek. If you don't make him work at it, he will never really value you."

Peyral added, "It's really good advice, Na'dia. I had to do something like it with Tareyu before he shaped up. It seems that males need an attitude correction before they can be trusted to treat females right."

"But there is something much more important I have to discuss with you tonight," said Ninat. The two women looked at her curiously. What was she on about? "I have three – yes, three – utu'mauti, and I can't eat more than one tonight. Whatever will I do with the other two? They will be rotten tomorrow. It seems such a shame." She reached over to a basket and pulled out one of the voluptuous purple fruit.

Na'dia's mouth began to water. She had only eaten the fabled 'banana fruit' once, during Avatar familiarisation training not long after landing at Hell's Gate, but even she knew that it was the height of ill-courtesy to take one from the finder. And the flavour had totally blown her new Avatar senses. She wanted one – and she was hungry again.

"Hmmm, rather soft," she said reprovingly and cradled it to her breast, 'accidentally' crushing it, the juicy pulp running all over her slim torso. "Oh, dear, however will I clean it off? Utu'mauti is so very sticky."

Na'dia and Peyral glanced knowingly at each other, and proceeded to demonstrate the preferred method – using nothing other than their mouths and tongues.


	14. Chapter 14

Na'dia had left her two circle sisters asleep, to start her stretching exercises on the flat by the river bank at dawn. Her skin was still a little sticky from the utu'mauti, despite the best efforts of Ninat and Peyral, and she was considering the benefits of a quick wash when she felt someone approach.

It was Txep'ean.

She stopped her stretches and waited for him.

"I See you," he said. This time there was the proper amount of respect in his voice.

Na'dia nodded and made the gesture of acknowledgement, but did not answer.

Her silence made him shift uncomfortably, and he started to speak. "My sister Ninat has pointed out that my conduct has been...less than worthy, in that I have not paid you the respect and care that is due to a woman of the Na'vi. Nay," he said, "The respect due any woman of such courage and honour, particularly one to whom I owe the debt of my life."

This was shaping up to be a reasonable apology, as apologies went – even if it was not couched in the most flowery rhetoric.

"I have thought long on her words this night, and have concluded that she is correct." He paused, and said more humbly, "I have little experience in dealing with females, so I crave the poor excuse of ignorance and male obtuseness. I seek your forgiveness, and hope that you will promptly correct me should I transgress again." His mouth twisted attractively into a wry smile, as he added, "I have been left in no doubt whatsoever that any words you should use on such an occasion will readily make me aware of my many shortcomings, and will endeavour to learn from them."

Oh my god, she thought. He is totally gorgeous. She struggled to remember Ninat's advice, and barely managed to say, "I'll think about it."

Txep'ean held up his hand to indicate that he had not quite finished. "I am as a teylu under the hoof of a talioang, awaiting my dire fate, but there is one other indulgence I would beg from you."

She raised a brow in query. What was he going to ask for?

"I, like the rest of the clan, noted your skill on the field of combat. You are nawm'tsamsiyu, and although your style of fighting is strange to the Na'vi, I would learn from you, if you would deign to teach me."

Na'dia almost leapt for joy. He really meant it. She could not imagine that such a proud warrior would humble himself to learn from a mere tawtute female if he had not meant everything he had said.

However, she managed to hide her joy, and frowned. "The training is both long and hard," she said coolly. "I need to know you are committed to doing everything as I say, warrior. So I will set you a test."

Txep'ean nodded. "Very well," he said. "I am ready." He looked as though he was ready to run twenty leagues, and then fight a battle non-stop for three days, merely to prove himself worthy of her attention.

She had no doubt that he could actually do that – but it was far too easy a test, she thought. Na'dia would do something much worse to him - much, much worse.

She drew her swords and held them out in front of her at full stretch of her arms, parallel to the ground. "Stand still, and hold my weapons thus."

He looked puzzled. What kind of test was this? He took her swords from her, her skin thrilling from the inadvertent touch, and commented, "They are very light."

"Are they?" she replied. "We'll see." Txep'ean held the swords out as she directed, and she said, "I will tell you when you may lower them."

The expression on his face indicated that he thought this test would be a doddle.

She went back to doing her stretches, and had almost finished when Ralu and Tanhi appeared with their parents. Na'dia rose gracefully, and greeted them, "Oel ngati kameie."

Wokan and Ilyana - she had learnt the names of the children's parents yesterday from Ninat - returned her greeting and looked curiously at Txep'ean, obviously wondering what he was doing. She smiled, and told them, "He is making an apology." Already she was impressed by his strength and fitness – the tips of the blades were not moving at all.

"Ralu, Tanhi," she smiled at the two children. "Do you remember how we searched yesterday?"

"Yes, Na'dia," they chorused, nodding eagerly.

"Let us see, then."

She took Ralu and Tanhi through the figures she had taught yesterday, and found that they had remembered very well. She took a glance towards Txep'ean, to see that his expression of confidence had been replaced by one of grim determination, his brow decorated by a few beads of sweat standing out in proud relief. Na'dia showed the children another two figures, which they repeated five or six times before she was satisfied with their performance.

By now, Txep'ean's face was twisted in agony, the blades trembling slightly, and the tips moving in little circles as he fought to keep them level. Everything was going exactly to plan – especially as Wokan and Ilyana kept sneaking glances at the unfortunate warrior, sniggering at his plight.

Na'dia led the two children through the figures, all linked together in a graceful dance, calling out each pattern. They really were exceptional students – much better behaved than human children, she thought.

At the end of the routine, she thanked Ralu and Tanhi, and told them she was getting closer to finding herself. They asked if they could come tomorrow – she told them that she had to look elsewhere tomorrow, but they could help the following day.

Ilyana lingered a little after her children and mate left to return to the encampment. She gave Txep'ean an amused glance and said, "My cousin Peyral spoke to me last night. He always has been too proud."

Na'dia grinned and said, "She is a good friend and sister."

Ilyana nodded. "Eywa ngahu."

She returned the farewell, and decided to wash in the river. She took her time, making sure that she removed the last sticky vestiges of the utu'mauti. When she emerged, dripping wet, the blades were no longer parallel to the ground. Txep'ean was now fighting merely to keep his arms from dropping to his sides.

"You may stop," she said.

Txep'ean's shoulders slumped as his arms dropped. She took the blades from his hands, sheathed them and ordered him to kneel. He almost collapsed to the ground in relief.

"Rest today," she advised him, as she rubbed the knots out of the muscles in his shoulders and arms. "Do not try to do anything strenuous. You may inadvertently injure yourself, which will delay your training. Be here the day after tomorrow, at dawn."

The relief on his face would have been visible to someone in orbit. The poor baby must be in absolute agony.

"You can do this?" he asked incredulously. "For how long?"

She smiled. "Until I must eat, or drink, or go to the privy," she replied.

An expression of respect passed over his face. It seemed that a river had been crossed in his education. He nodded, and got up to return to the camp, nursing his aching arms.

Na'dia unsheathed her blades, and started her katas.


	15. Chapter 15

It was clear that Txep'ean was one tough dude. Na'dia had expected that he would only last ten minutes, but he stood the course for almost an hour. She hadn't intended on letting his punishment go on for so long, but she couldn't resist the temptation to show him that there were many things he did not know – especially about her.

She was thinking about how gorgeous his body had felt when she massaged his shoulders, when she missed a change and tripped, landing on her rump. She stood up, annoyed at herself for losing focus, when she noticed that someone had been watching her, unseen.

Mo'at said, "Daydreams about young men are always distracting when one is young." She walked over to where the sword dancer was standing.

Na'dia glowed hot with embarrassment. Were her thoughts so transparent? She slammed her swords into their sheaths with irritation. Damn, she thought. Her hormones were whiplashing her reason again. It was almost impossible to do her katas when she was like this.

The Tsahik continued, "I have been attempting to scry the will of Eywa, regarding your future with the Omaticaya. My daughter wishes to use you for your knowledge of the tawtute, which is good, but that alone is not sufficient to justify your presence here."

"I wish to mate with Txep'ean," said Na'dia tightly. "And join the Omaticaya as one of the clan, so that he may stay with his people, for I have no clan here on this world."

Mo'at inclined her head, indicating her understanding of her desire. "That remains to be seen," she said.

Oh god, she thought. Here it comes – the expulsion from the clan for killing one of their own.

"You walk a dangerous path, Na'diakhudoshin, one that is perilous to your soul. No," she said, holding up one hand when Na'dia tried to interrupt, "I do not speak of your killing of Tsaylu, unfortunate though that was. You had no choice in that matter, not if you wished to live. I speak of other things, things that will decide whether you stay with the clan, but are not willing to share. Eywa has not yet made her decision on your place in the world."

She felt a strange combination of relief and apprehension. Mo'at suspected something, but was not yet sure what to do with her, so Na'dia was on some kind of probation.

Much to her surprise, Mo'at smiled at her. "All is not lost, Na'dia. Your name means hope in the tawtute tongue, Ìnglìsì, does it not?"

Na'dia nodded, although she wasn't going to explain about the difference between English and Ukrainian.

"It is a most appropriate name," said the Tsahik. "I hope that you find happiness in this world, for you have had little in your previous life, and you deserve that chance. While that is yet to be decided, I believe my daughter wishes to speak to you regarding your place in the clan. You will find her in the camp. Eywa ngahu."

As Mo'at was walking away, Na'dia murmured, "Eywa ngahu." The Tsahik checked her walk for a moment, as though she was going to turn and say something else, but then continued on.

It was more like an interrogation than a conversation. Ney'tiri grilled Na'dia on the motivations behind the RDA presence on Pandora, the role of unobtanium in human society and its value. She wanted to understand what drove the humans to come so far.

Ney'tiri said, "So they will return. The tawtute need the tskxe that nurtures, the unobtanium, to keep their soulless beasts of metal alive."

"Yes," replied Na'dia. "If they do not, many more entire clans will die than there are Omaticaya." There was no word in Na'vi for billions. "They have no choice, or at least that is what they will perceive."

"Is it true what my Zhake says? That we are so distant from the world of the tawtute the journey takes five years?"

Na'dia made a gesture of assent. "The tawtute have twelve starships. They will keep coming, less than a year apart. But the first one prepared to retake Hell's Gate will not arrive for at least five years. The tawtute leaders already know what has happened. Preparations will already have started. The weapons they carry will be far deadlier than anything you have seen." She sighed. "The kxangangang that burnt my body was thirty bowshots distant when it was released. All around me were slain, and the land was poisoned by its detritus. It was a small weapon of little power. They have many thousands of such weapons. If they wish, the tawtute can burn all Eywa's forests to ash."

She continued relentlessly. "That is not all they could do. The tawtute can make life, as they made this dreamwalker body." Na'dia indicated her own torso. "Instead of making life, they could make death – a sickness that will slay all Na'vi, a sickness to lay our world to waste. They could do this, and thus have no need to fight. This would have much appeal to their leaders, for it would take little effort, as they judge these things."

As Na'dia talked, Ney'tiri's face turned to stone. "They would do this?"

"Srane," replied Na'dia. "The tawtute leaders do not See the Na'vi as people, nor do they See all that Eywa embraces. They are like Quaritch, the Jarhead warrior that you slew – all they see are obstacles, things to be swept away. Their minds are filled with dreams of metal and fire. They care not for life. Ask your mate as to the truth of my words."

"What can we do against such evil?" murmured Ney'tiri.

Na'dia had no answer for this question. "Oe si ke omum," she said, for in truth she did not know. While Eywa rose up against the RDA and destroyed their forces, she could not see how the Na'vi could triumph in the end against the humans. Almost all the megafauna of Earth – the mammoths, the lions and tigers and bears, the countless herds of wildebeest and bison, and the whales of the oceans – were now extinct, the victims of the naked ape and his clever hands. The only survivors were those that made an accommodation with Man as his slaves, or those that hid in the shadows of the great lifeless cities.

"Could we come to an accommodation?"

Na'dia smiled bitterly. Her anthropological studies had been littered with examples of what happened to native peoples at the hands of so-called civilisation. The Cherokee and Iroquois, the Wurundjeri, Aztecs and the Chukchis, the Zulus and the Inuit, all had been consigned to the dustbin of history.

"At first an accommodation could be made," said Na'dia. "A treaty will be agreed, and it would be honoured for a time – perhaps ten years. But then, the tawtute will press for concessions, stating that the treaty is too binding and restrictive, and they cannot prosper under such conditions, for their numbers will increase inexorably. Their words will be seductive, and out of compassion you will agree, and then find that you have sold them your soul. When you fight, which you will, the tawtute will say the Na'vi have broken their word. They will bring their terrible weapons and crush the Na'vi, as they crushed many peoples on Earth, and the forests will be swept away. The Na'vi, if any survive, will be locked away as slaves in small patches of remnant green, dwindle and die."

"The only way the tawtute were defeated was to use their own weapons against them," said Na'dia. "By doing so, those peoples that fought and won lost their soul, and became tawtute themselves."

"You have given me much to think upon," said Ney'tiri. "It is a bitter pill to swallow, to die or lose our soul, but there must be another way. I would not have the Na'vi disappear."

"I do not wish it either," agreed Na'dia. The twists of fate that led her here had left her no choice.

Ney'tiri took Na'dia's hand and squeezed it gently. "My sister, you are Na'vi, no matter what anyone says."

"Ney'tiri," asked Na'dia curiously. "You joined in tsahaylu with a palulukan in the battle against the tawtute, did you not?"

"Yes," she answered reluctantly.

"What was it like?"

Her sister shivered. "It was not for very long," she said. "I cannot say I rode it, merely that it agreed to tolerate me for a short time, and to kill tawtute as I requested. The bond was not close, not like that of an ikran, or even a pa'li, although I had the sense that it was old and knew much of Eywa. It did not care for the Na'vi, except to eat. It showed me that."

"There is one other thing I would ask of you, my sister," said Na'dia, in a hurry to change the subject. She had wished she had not asked the question now. "I play no part in the life of the clan. I would earn my way with the Omaticaya, and not be as a parasite sucking blood from the body of the People."

"You are very proud, Na'diakhudoshin," said her sister of the tsumuke'awsiteng. She cocked her head to one side and thought for a few moments. "You will teach those that wish to learn your art of battle. As you are swok txe'lan, I cannot ask you to hunt, although I wish to teach you to use a bow myself. Perhaps you should gather fruit with Ninat, if you do not linger too much at the young men's swimming hole."

Ney'tiri laughed when she saw the guilty expression appear on Na'dia's face. She said, "Before I met my Zhake, I spent many pleasant hours watching the young men, though unlike Peyral, I never thought to fall out of the tree. Come, let us go and discover if you are better than my Zhake with a bow."

As it was, Ney'tiri was pleasantly surprised. Na'dia picked up the basics much faster than Zhake - she even hit the target with her first loose.


	16. Chapter 16

No-one was awake when Na'dia left the Omaticaya camp.

She could see that sneaking away was going to get more difficult to explain, now that she was expected to contribute to the well-being of the clan. The big problem was that she had given her word, and the consequences of breaking it were...severe. Na'dia would just have to walk this path and see where it took her.

Neither the palulukan's cubs nor its mate were anywhere to be seen.

The palulukan itself was pacing up and down, as though it was waiting impatiently for her to appear. It seemed that it had a habit of doing this – the track it was walking up and down had worn through the ground cover, baring the brown earth. When she entered the clearing, it stopped pacing and walked around in a circle several times before lying down. This was a clear indication that she was ready to bond with Na'dia, so she lost no time in connecting their queues.

"What were you doing?" thought Na'dia.

"_Self bored. Mate, cubs away. Pace stops self from boredom. Now answer questions."_

It was almost like a rerun of her interrogation by Ney'tiri, delving into human motivations and society in tremendous detail, except the palulukan was a lot more abrupt.

"_Sky two legs very like self. Relentless, ruthless, thorough."_

The similarity had struck Na'dia as well. A vivid mental picture appeared in her mind, an image of a palulukan dressed in an Italian suit, seated behind a desk in a corner office, adjusting its silk tie as it overlooked the multitudes of its rightful prey in the city below. The palulukan suddenly seemed to have a coughing fit, when Na'dia realised that it was laughing.

"Why are you asking me these things?"

"_Self older than many lives of two legs. Few prey kill adult self, no threat to self, not until sky people came. Few self have cubs, cubs precious, few self. Sky two legs slay other self of same litter when other help two legs against sky people. Self doubt future when sky two legs return."_

An image of Ney'tiri in warpaint splashed with red blood appeared in her mind, followed by images of a ferocious battle with a human in an AMP suit, followed by the shock of dying.

"_Self feel death, link with Eywa to discover how other self of same litter slain."_

It seemed that palulukan numbers were small, and they reproduced slowly. This would not be an evolutionary disadvantage, due to their position on the food chain as top predator. Not even a toruk would attack an adult palulukan – not if it wanted to live.

"How old are you?"

"_Since litter, self has known 100111111101 years."_

Na'dia blinked at the size of the number, until she realised that the palulukan counted in binary. She did a quick mental conversion. The palulukan was almost three thousand years old! She was older than the Roman Empire, older than the glories of the Parthenon and Classical Greek civilisation. Na'dia was stunned.

"_Sire of self told of arrival of two legs. Two legs brought by dead ikran from above sky. Evil comes from sky."_

Na'dia grimaced. As she could attest from personal experience, one's perception of evil clearly depended which side of the species boundary one resided. However, now was not the time for reflection. The palulukan's thoughts had prompted another question. "The Na'vi are not native to Pandora?"

"_No. Sire saw two legs spread across world like sickness, take game from selfs, so selfs unite, make war on two legs to stop plague. Most selfs and two legs dead when war end. Female two legs make treaty with female self to stop killing, two legs agree to limit cubs. If too many, selfs kill two legs until balance regained. Without treaty, both two legs and selfs all die. With treaty, selfs rarely kill two legs, except at behest of Eywa."_

The racial memory of that war must be why the Na'vi hated and feared the palulukan – why they were the only major species that was not a Na'vi totem animal.

"_Coming of sky two legs disrupt balance. Destroy hunting grounds belong self. Self take action, protect cubs. What action self knows not yet."_

It seemed that this particular interrogation was now over. The palulukan had stopped on her memory of Txep'ean taking the test by the river, replaying it several times, amused by the incident. Now it seemed that no deed was to go unpunished – Na'dia was to receive similar attention from her sensei.

"_Stand here and hide."_

The palulukan projected a gestalt into Na'dia's mind. She was to stand in the middle of the clearing, and hide in clear view.

"Shit," she thought, when the palulukan gave her a mental cuff that made her eyes water. Defeatist thoughts would not be tolerated, so Na'dia stood and broke the bond. The palulukan watched with jet-black eyes as she cleared her mind to consider the gestalt image. She peeled back the surface of the gestalt, and then slithered inside it, carefully stretching it back over herself. She was a plant, a pitcher plant, catching the sun.

The day, like most on Pandora, was hot and humid, and she began to slowly overheat in the direct sunlight. She heard the buzz of insects, and almost leapt out of her skin as a hell-fire wasp landed on her cheek and started to drink the trickle of sweat running down the side of her face. The damned thing just stopped there. She had hated insects with stings ever since she had been stung by a bee when she was five, on her first trip to a park.

The wasp started to crawl down her face on to her neck and down her chest, making her skin crawl. After what seemed like an eternity, it finally took flight. "Arrrgh!" she yelled, her mental camouflage dropping instantly, and she rubbed furiously at her crawling skin. The palulukan was having another coughing fit, when it made a gesture for her to continue.

This time, Na'dia decided to make her own. She assembled a gestalt of nothing, of complete blankness, feeling for the patterns of life and making them swirl around her and through her body as though she wasn't there. The palulukan blinked in surprise, and stood up. It started towards her, apparently looking for her, one paw outstretched, sweeping slowly back and forth.

Na'dia allowed a thought to almost escape...over...there.

The head of the most fearsome predator of the forest swung like the turret of a tank. It gathered its muscles and pounced where she wasn't. No, she wasn't there, she was...here. What followed was a game of Pandoran blind man's buff, where she kept the palulukan bounding around the clearing, all without moving from her original position.

The palulukan snorted in disgust, prowled to one end of the clearing, and then started to exhaustively search the clearing, inch by inch. Just before it reached her position, Na'dia allowed her gestalt to evaporate, revealing herself to her sensei. The palulukan gently took hold of her in one paw, lifted her off the ground, and playfully shook her, rattling her teeth, before setting her back on the ground – shaken, but not stirred. Now she knew how a cocktail felt – or more to the point, a rat being shaken by a terrier.

Almost unnoticed the palulukan had linked with her – it felt natural to her now, almost as though they were two parts of the same person.

"_Self surprised by skill of two legs. Enjoy play, memory of self when cub."_

"I surprised myself," she thought back, as she sat down and leaned against its shoulder. The strange thing was that Na'dia had not been frightened at all when the palulukan grabbed her. It could have easily killed her, but she knew it wouldn't – she could see its intentions as clear as the sunlight falling through the forest canopy. "Tell me of your youth," she asked.

It was pleasant in the sun, recalling the palulukan's experiences as a cub, as she listened to its massive heart slowly pumping blood. Na'dia gradually dozed off, dreaming of stalking her littermates, being taught to hunt yerik by her sire and dam, and the hot rush of blood that came with her first kill.


	17. Chapter 17

It was close to dusk when both the palulukan and Na'dia awoke from their shared daydream. Na'dia leaned hard against its body and kissed its satiny skin as she reluctantly broke tsahaylu, promising to return. It returned the affectionate sentiment by affectionately nudging her.

Na'dia flowed through the forest, keeping invisibly to the shadows, thinking bloodthirsty thoughts of stalking and killing as she returned to the Omaticaya camp.

The old 'angitsa bull lifted its massive hammerhead from grazing. There was danger near, danger to its cows and calves. The black death was close, very close, thinking thoughts of killing – it had to defend the herd. The bull bellowed defiance, smashing down a tree, displaying its power and strength.

Na'dia hadn't been paying attention to the flow of energy around her, consumed in her dreams of bloodlust. She was surprised by the sudden appearance of a hammerhead bull in full rage right in front of her. Without thinking, she screamed a cry of death, warning the bull to back off, otherwise she would slay it and all its herd, and wallow in the gore of their carcasses.

The bull was confused. The black death was here, and yet it was not – its poor eyesight only fuzzily made out the shape of the predator – it didn't look like one. But it smelt like one, it thought like one and it acted like one. What finally made up its mind was the scream it made – only palulukan made that sound, although it was high pitched, so it must be a young and small black death. The bull was confident it could kill a young and stupid black death, so it charged.

An Omaticaya hunting party had been cautiously working around the 'angitsa herd on its way back to the camp when they heard the roar of the alpha bull challenging a predator. A huge tree came crashing down, and revealed a terrifying scene. The stupid uniltìranyu woman was standing in front of the bull, screaming a challenge in response to the aggression of the bull, her hands empty of any weapon.

Every member of the hunting party saw the bull charge. She was going to die – there was no doubt in any of their minds. The woman ran at it, and sprang into the air as the bull flexed its knees, about to leap into the air to bring its massive feet down to crush her flat.

But that didn't happen.

Instead, the woman's hands landed square on the snout of the 'angitsa, as for a brief moment she stood on her hands, perfectly balanced, an image of grace and beauty. The bull's head flicked up as it leapt, preparing to plunge down to crush where she had been, tossing her in a somersault into the air. She landed astride its broad back, drew both her swords and plunged them unerringly into the bull's spine, all the way up to their hilts.

The thrashing of the bull in its death throes flung her from her seat through the air, her body smashing into a tree, and she fell limply to the ground.

The Omaticaya taronyu were stunned by the savagery and artistry of the kill, and hardly noticed the herd stampeding in terror away from the death of its alpha bull.

Txep'ean was the first to reach her body. Blood was flowing down the side of her face, and he feared that she had been killed by the impact. It was with huge relief that he saw her eyelids flutter, and slowly open.

"Na'dia, are you hurt?" he asked quietly.

She smiled at him, and lifted one hand to caress his face, only for her eyes to roll back, and she slipped into unconsciousness.


	18. Chapter 18

Na'dia awoke to a hubbub of raised voices, her head aching.

One voice cried out, "The uniltìranyu is a danger to the clan. No taronyu of the People could kill an adult 'angitsa in the manner she did."

"I smelt her when she was brought in," shouted another. "Her scent stank of the palulukan."

"Na'diakhudoshin is tìkawng kewong," yelled a woman's voice. "The evil alien seeks to deceive and corrupt the Omaticaya. She makes a pretence of swok txelan, but she is really a killer."

"Yes, she slew Tsaylu by deception, by tricking him into attacking her."

There was a roar of acclamation from the massed clan-members.

As Na'dia sat up, she heard Ney'tiri cry out over the crowd, "Calm, people, calm. Are the Omaticaya a pack of yelping nantang?"

The first voice called out over the silence, "Let her answer the accusations of the clan. Bring the alien forth to speak."

Zhake'soolly announced, "Na'diakhudoshin will be brought before the clan. Ninat, if she is returned to us, fetch her."

Na'dia was standing shakily on her feet when Ninat appeared, her face twisted by worry. "Na'dia," Ninat said quickly, "There is trouble. Are you alright to speak?"

Na'dia nodded groggily, and allowed Ninat to take her arm. Her friend guided her to the central place of the camp, packed with the entire clan. They drew back from her, hissing and snarling, as she was brought to the front of the crowd. Zhake and Ney'tiri were there, their faces calm, but their tension was evident in every facet of their bodies. Mo'at stood to one side, as impassive as ever.

Ninat whispered to her, "You have to tell them you aren't evil."

She turned to face the lynch mob, for that was what it was. Na'dia drew in breath to speak, but to her shock the words were not there. They were gone.

"Look at her," called out an older male. "She cannot speak her lies before so many. Look at her face."

There was a rumble of agreement from the clan.

Mo'at stepped next to her to ask, "Na'diakhudoshin, can you speak?"

There was only one possible response to her question. Na'dia shook her head.

Gently, Mo'at asked another question. "Are you possessed by the spirit of a palulukan?"

The question was like a physical blow, totally blindsiding Na'dia. How did Mo'at know? How could she ever have known? Slowly, Na'dia nodded her head. She had no choice. When had she ever had any choice? Her eyes sought those of Txep'ean, as the members of the clan roared out their hatred. Unlike the rest of the seething mob, his voice was not twisted by fear, but stricken with sorrow and anguish.

"Kill her!" screamed a number of the clan. "Kill the evil one!"

"Hold," cried out Mo'at. "I am Tsahik. It is my place to interpret the will of Eywa." The crowd subsided slightly, the threat of sudden violence lurking below the surface. "This has happened before, in the oldest songs, the songs that are only taught to the Tsahik and her successor. It is not our place to kill one possessed by the palulukan, for even the possessed are children of Eywa."

A voice interrupted her speech, "But she is tawtute! She was not born of Eywa!"

Mo'at glared down the heckler, who crumbled under her undeviating gaze. "Na'diakhudoshin is not Na'vi, she is something else. She cannot be one of the Omaticaya, or one of any clan. She must leave the Omaticaya, to live a life such as she may find in the forest, alone and apart."

There was a murmur of assent from the clan. The Tsahik of the Omaticaya was wise, and her words accorded with the traditions of the clan. The section of the crowd that had been whipping up hatred subsided, ever so reluctantly. Even they were not prepared to challenge the authority of the Tsahik.

"Now go about your business," ordered Mo'at. "This thing is done."

The crowd slowly dispersed, leaving Zhake, Txep'ean and her sisters of the tsumuke'awsiteng behind, their expressions almost blank with shock.

Zhake said in English, "Damn, Khudoshin. How the fuck did this happen?"

She shrugged helplessly. It was just one of those things, and she could not tell him in words in any case. It seemed she was fated to be fucked by life, that anything she ever wanted would be ripped away from her. If she hadn't saved the cub, she would be dead at the claws of her sensei. Life was a cruel bitch, and delighted in torturing her, taunting her with the possibility of happiness, before snatching it away.

Na'dia looked sadly at her sisters, tears trickling down her face. She embraced each of them once, and kissed them, before standing before Txep'ean. His face looked as though he was about to say something, but she did not give the male she desired the opportunity to speak. Instead, she flung her arms around Txep'ean, and kissed him deeply. His arms crept around her, holding her tight, until she finally pulled away.

Mo'at had returned, bearing her scabbard harness and blades. She said, "You will need this, Na'diakhudoshin." Na'dia took the harness, and slowly donned it, buckling up the harness. "I am sorry, child, but your path is not here," said Mo'at.

Na'dia nodded. Her path had always been a lonely one. Why should now be any different? She started to walk out of the camp, watched by the six Na'vi.

She did not look back.


	19. Chapter 19

It had been more than two months since the RDA had been expelled from Pandora. Max Patel was sitting in Hell's Gate control tower, checking his figures for projected consumable expenditures. It looked like they should be able to sustain the current population of humans and Avatars indefinitely, as long as they were careful, and didn't break anything major.

The stereolithography plant was the key, of course. Keeping that going, and feeding it with materials was going to be the major challenge they faced. At least it could produce its own spares, and they had three complete sets, just in case.

A buzzer sounded.

It was what everyone called the doorbell, the alarm on the front gate. Max brought up the window viewer for the front gate on his screen, to see a solitary Na'vi female standing at the gate, by the keypad used for manual entry. She bent down and pressed the send button again, impatiently stabbing at it several times, causing the noise of the buzzer to echo around the otherwise empty control room.

Max pulled on the headset and said, "Wait there. I will get someone who speaks Na'vi. It will take a few minutes." God, what was he doing, trying to speak English to someone who obviously wouldn't understand him, when he noticed she was directly facing the camera, and her five-fingered hands making signs – signs that he knew very well.

His lips moved as he translated to himself, "Max, get off your fat ass, get the fuck down here, and let me in."

Holy fuck! It was Nadia Khudoshin – or rather her Avatar. She was the only person other than himself on Pandora that knew sign, and she was supposed to be dead. They had flown out to site thirty-one to recover her body a couple of weeks ago, but neither Khudoshin nor her Avatar were anywhere to be found, although the picked over Avatar carcasses of Chandrasekhar and Martinez were outside the hut. That was sad, but wasn't really important, as both of them were killed in the battle between the Na'vi and the RDA. It still left a mystery, as someone or something had removed them from the Avatar hut, but Max had thought that it would remain like the_ Marie Celeste_. No-one would ever know.

Apparently not. It seemed he was about to find out.

Five minutes later he was huffing and puffing through his exo-pack when he appeared at the front gate. He slapped the manual entry door control, and the massive gate slowly opened.

Na'dia signed, "Hi Max." Her eyes shone bright with unshed tears.

Max was getting used to looking up at ten foot tall blue people, although he was developing a permanent crick in his neck.

"Are you ok?" he asked. "Where is your link unit? We all thought you were dead."

She signed back, "No link unit. I'm dead, just like Sully is."

"Where have you been?" he demanded. "Why can't you talk? There was nothing wrong with your Avatar."

Na'dia sighed. This was going to take a while, and she hated explanations. "It's a long story," she signed. "First, though, there is someone I want you to meet. A friend, but she's rather shy. Come with me."

Max looked nervously out at the forest. "What about the wildlife?" he asked. "We aren't running patrols any more to keep the predator numbers down. We agreed that with the Na'vi as part of the outcome of the battle."

She chuckled. "I think you will be safe from wildlife. There isn't much chance anything will get past us."

The rotund little scientist trotted alongside the Na'vi woman, his gaze darting back and forward, wondering if he could trust her word. He had no wish to be eaten by a pack of viperwolves.

When they got to the edge of the forest, she stopped and turned to him, signing, "It turns out there is another sentient species on Pandora. They were under our noses all the time."

A black shape flowed out of the forest, the most feared predator on the face of the planet – a thanator. It sat on its rear hindquarters and proceeded to sign, "Greetings, Dr Max Patel. I would like to have words with your kind."

His mouth dropped open in pure astonishment – astonishment that was replaced by a very different emotion at its next words.

The predator signed, "Na'dia, there is much meat on this one's bones, and he does not seem that intelligent. Are you sure we cannot eat him?" It broke off into what was apparently a coughing fit, but was something entirely different – a sound that he would become very used to over the following years.

The sound of a palulukan laughing.


	20. Chapter 20

Na'dia watched Max's expression closely as she recounted her story. After the initial shock of her appearance with a thanator for a friend, it seemed that nothing could shock him. He just watched, nodding as she rapidly flicked through the signs. At the end of her tale, he commented that it was no stranger than what happened to Sully.

Suddenly he grinned, adding, "I have to admit, those of us left here at Hell's Gate would think it instant karma. You do have a reputation for being a cast iron bitch, after all."

The palulukan snorted, signing, "I like this one. He will make a good pet."

Max wished he was better at reading thanator facial expressions, so he could tell if the beast – no, the huge sentient being with a taste for eating live prey – was joking or not. It was a skill that he suspected all the remaining humans would be rapidly acquiring, purely in self defence.

Over the next few days, twenty adult thanators drifted into Hell's Gate, taking advantage of the new open gate policy. Most only stayed for a day or two out of curiosity before leaving, but the palulukan's mate and cubs came and stayed - it seemed that she had shifted her territory permanently. She took possession of one end of the Avatar longhouse, and no-one had the courage or stupidity to dispute her invocation of force majeure.

All the humans – Avatars and others – were furiously learning sign language – unfortunately the hard way. The palulukan had refused to bond with any of the Avatar drivers. She said her head was full enough of human nonsense already, and had no wish to clutter her well-ordered mind further. While she signed this, she was watching Na'dia's expression closely, and was gratified to evoke a peal of laughter.

However, her fascination with human knowledge was unabated. She had bullied Max into installing a console in the long house, and when she wasn't hunting or caring for her cubs the palulukan spent most of her time trawling through the databases, carefully tapping out commands on the keyboard with a single razor sharp extended claw.

The palulukan did insist on forming the bond with Na'dia through much of her research, plundering her mind for information and interpretation of what she was reading.

Her mate, on the other hand, did not seem interested at all in the humans, ignoring them as beneath his notice. When Na'dia queried her about his indifference, the palulukan looked abashed – or at least what Na'dia interpreted as abashed.

"_Self did not select mate for mind. Mate handsome and strong, good hunter, patient with cubs. Mate much younger than self."_

One thought sprang immediately into Na'dia's mind. The palulukan was a cougar! The palulukan felt the unfamiliar reference, and almost flinched when told of the meaning.

"_Self admits that mate energetic, tireless when mating. Virile."_

The thoughts Na'dia was receiving were tinged with an unfamiliar flavour – embarrassment. The thought that the peak Pandoran predator could be embarrassed sent her off into paroxysms of laughter.

The palulukan had refused to speak to her for two days after that exchange.

The humans did find that there was one advantage to having thanators set up residence in Hell's Gate. The forest around the settlement suddenly emptied of rival predators. There were, however, some disadvantages. When the palulukan's mate went out hunting, he would find the nearest human or Avatar, and dump the cubs at the unfortunate individual's feet. The distinct implication was that the individual should be honoured for the opportunity of keeping three thanator cubs – an exhausting duty, no matter how cute they may be – busy until he returned.

It seemed that the humans had been domesticated.

Max had insisted on performing brain scans on Na'dia, to see if there was anything that could be done to restore her power of speech. He spent days comparing the results from records of her brain activity recorded when she was doing final Avatar familiarisation.

"Your scans are totally different," said Max. Na'dia was sitting on one of the beds in the Avatar decanting room. "It's like someone stuck a wooden spoon in your skull and mixed everything up. The speech functions have totally disappeared, although your vocabulary is intact. The interconnections with your queue have spread far beyond what is normal for a human-Na'vi hybrid – they are much denser even than that of a full-blood Na'vi."

Na'dia nodded. It was more or less as she expected, given her new abilities. She signed, "That's exactly what it felt like she did when she rewired me."

Max asked, "What changes did she make?"

"I can feel Eywa, all around me," said Na'dia. "All the flows of life energy between lifeforms – trees, animals, people - I can directly perceive, for at least a hundred metres around. And I can influence them as well."

"Influence?" asked Max, leaning forward eagerly.

It was going to be easier to demonstrate than to explain, and it was much easier to do now she had some practice.

Max unbelievingly watched Na'dia slowly fade from sight, the rear wall of the decanting room becoming visible through her torso, until the only thing left was a slight distortion in the air. He reached out to touch her – as soon as his hand made contact she sprang back into full visibility.

She signed, "Watch where you put your hand."

He snatched his hand away from her thigh, his face dark with mortification.

Grinning, she added, "I can't do much else when I'm doing the fade to grey thing. That will come with time, I'm told. But the palulukan says it is a very useful skill when ambushing prey."

"I imagine it is," commented Max drily. He imagined being surprised by an invisible thanator in the depths of the forest. If he didn't drop dead immediately from shock anyway, he would be dead in seconds.

"I don't think it will affect cameras, or mirrors," signed Na'dia. "I can't feel them at all, so I can't get them to think that I'm not here." Her grin spread even wider. "I'm sort of like an inverse vegetarian vampire."

"You're still vegetarian?" he asked. "I would have thought..." his voice trailed off.

She shrugged. "Oh, I lust for the taste of blood and raw meat, still warm from the kill," she said. "So much sometimes it hurts. But the thought of actually eating it, when it is right there in front of me – it makes me feel sick. I'm a pretty poor excuse for a vampire."

"Were-palulukan," corrected Max. "I think that is probably a more accurate description."

"I can't transform myself into a palulukan," she objected. "I'm not sure that's right either."

"We'll have to come up with a new term for you," answered Max. "For now, though, I think you are a were-palulukan."

Na'dia thought about that conversation later the same afternoon. She was gazing out at the forest, while the palulukan surfed the sum of human knowledge on Pandora. What was she? She was neither human, or Na'vi, or palulukan. She felt restless, as though she was trapped, and she wanted to be gone. She sighed.

"_Self thinks two legs is Na'dia. Neither more nor less."_

Since coming to Hell's Gate, the palulukan had adapted to using names for people, although she thought they were a silly human affectation. Na'dia had pointed out that while names did not have much application in what passed for palulukan society, they were an invaluable construct in much more densely populated human (or Na'vi) societies. The palulukan had conceded the point, but continued to hold that while useful, the concept was essentially unnecessary.

Na'dia sighed again.

"_Na'dia should return to forest. Stop sighing like adolescent female. Annoying. Distracting."_

"Are you sure?" she asked.

"_Max can answer questions. Other two legs soon able to sign. Self use e-mail/messaging also."_

She shot to her feet, eager to be gone. Just before she broke the bond, a wistful thought came from the palulukan.

"_Don't die. Self would miss Na'dia, even though Na'dia in Eywa's embrace."_

Na'dia sent a wave of love down the link to the alien predator that had been one of the few beings that had ever cared for her.


	21. Chapter 21

The forest was unusually quiet. The skin between Ninat's shoulder blades prickled. Something was watching her – something predatory.

She had left the camp early this morning, by herself, to go gathering – as was her want since Na'dia had been expelled from the clan. Relations within the tsumuke'awsiteng were strained, so she had taken any opportunity to get away from the camp, so she did not have to deal with the tension. Both Peyral and Ninat had refused to consider any of the new candidates that Ney'tiri had suggested. They had Chosen Na'dia at Ney'tiri's urging, even though she was not Omaticaya, and they remained true to their Choice. Na'dia still was not Omaticaya, so nothing had changed. She was just away, for a little while, and neither Peyral nor Ninat were will o' the wisps, changeable as the wind through the treetops.

The few times they had taken Uniluke, there was nothing but the taste of ashes left in her mouth. The only reason they had persisted was to prevent Ney'tiri from conceiving, but she doubted that they could bear continuing even for that reason much longer. Not after losing both Seze'nang and Na'dia in a few short weeks.

Ninat felt that the entire clan was talking about them, waiting in glee for the collapse of Ney'tiri's circle. She could no longer keep up her cheerful prattle, hardly ever speaking to anyone. Mo'at had asked her if all was well, and she had snapped back at the Tsahik, telling she knew very well what was wrong – Mo'at had caused it.

She thought afterwards her words were unfair, but it was too late – she had spoken them. Mo'at had recoiled in shock, and tried to explain that Na'dia's expulsion was necessary to maintain the unity of the tribe, but Ninat had not wanted to listen. No, refused to listen. The offense she had given the Tsahik was severe, almost enough by itself to be dragged up before the clan. It was only Mo'at's forgiving nature that enabled her to avoid that outcome.

Her brother had been as shattered as Ninat by the expulsion. Never one to make friends easily, he had withdrawn almost totally from communal life. She had tried talking to him, but all he had done was to shake his head and walk away. She knew from long experience that nothing and no-one could induce him to talk if he did not wish to.

The predator stalking her was close – very close. She dropped her basket and drew her hunting knife, preparing to sell her life dearly. She had no intention of going to Eywa meekly. Though she was not taronyu or tsamsiyu, Ninat was a true child of the Omaticaya.

What revealed itself made Ninat's heart stop. A palulukan slunk out of the undergrowth, and roared a challenge at her. There was no point in running. It would pull her down before she ran ten paces. She only had time for one fleeting thought before it sprang. Was this the demon that had possessed Na'dia?

A small blue figure dropped from the trees above, landing crouched between Ninat and the black demon.

Na'dia had been tracking Ninat all morning, waiting until she was far enough away from the Omaticaya encampment so they could meet without fear of discovery. However, she had noticed signs that a strange palulukan had taken up the territory that her sensei had abandoned for Hell's Gate, and became increasingly concerned that Ninat was wandering further into its range than was wise. She could not see how any palulukan could miss Ninat's distress – she was broadcasting louder than a shatter rock station, or more to the point like a yerik with a broken leg.

When the stranger palulukan revealed itself, Na'dia acted without thought. She dropped from the aerial roots above to the forest floor between Ninat and the predator, and hissed her challenge.

The young predator recoiled in shock. The two legs that dropped from above to steal his prey did not taste like a two legs – it tasted like one of the old ones. He had not even known it was there. He had tried to dispute a range with an old one once. It had taken a month for all the injuries to totally heal, and he had no wish to repeat the experience.

"_Self meant no offense. Prey belongs old one?"_

Na'dia read the message from the position of the young male palulukan's quills, as clear as if it had been linked to her in tsahaylu. Unfortunately, she had no quills with which to reply, so she did the next best thing, praying to Eywa that the ability to read sign had spread this far amongst the palulukan population, as it had in the vicinity of Hell's Gate. Otherwise she would have to fight to take its range. She signed, "Yes. Two legs in this range belong to self. Young one may hunt other prey."

"_Agreed."_

The young palulukan retreated with what remained of its dignity, slinking back into the undergrowth, as the petite Na'vi watched it leave.

Once it was clear the palulukan had gone, Ninat started to say, "What..."

Na'dia interrupted by hissing a shush at her, and beckoned her to pick up her basket and follow. Ninat struggled to keep up, though she was an Omaticaya born. Na'dia flowed smoothly through the dense growth, almost without apparent effort, until she led Ninat to a young hometree, one that had barely penetrated the forest canopy. The central interior was nothing like the vaulted centre of old Kelutrel, merely an open space. It did, however, show signs of recent habitation, with a freshly laid firepit.

She lowered her basket to the ground, and waited patiently – well, she was trying to be patient, when she was about to burst with unasked questions. Her saviour lifted her left arm up, and the fingers of her right hand played across what Ninat had thought was a bowguard.

"Oel ngati kameie, Ninat," said Na'dia's voice, without her lips moving.

Ninat flung herself at her sister of the circle, embracing the smaller woman and covering her with kisses. "I've missed you so much, Na'dia," she wept. "It hasn't been the same since they sent you away."

Her sister brushed the tears from Ninat's face and smiled at her, her own eyes moist. Why wasn't Na'dia talking to her? Her sister pulled away from the embrace, and her fingers touched her bowguard again, many times. Ninat saw that it was a tawtute thing, made to look at first glance like Na'vi work, but with the smooth, polished design that characterised all tawtute manufactures.

"I can't speak, Ninat, except through this PDA," said Na'dia, indicating the bowguard when she said the strange tawtute word. "The link I made with the palulukan changed me, changed me in ways that you can't imagine."

Ninat backed away, a look of impending panic on her face, searching the space for the threat. "You really were possessed by a demon? Is it here?"

"Stay!" ordered Na'dia, looking incredibly frustrated, as her fingers flew across the bowguard. "The palulukan isn't here – she is at Hell's Gate with the tawtute." She flashed a grin at her sister. "The bitch and her cubs are making their life sheer hell."

"Oh," said Ninat, relaxing slightly, but still edging away slightly. "What are they doing?" She had visions of tawtute being torn limb from limb, and tried to pity them.

"Imagine being given three two year old children to babysit," said Na'dia, after a short pause while her fingers did the walking, "The size of young nantang."

Now Ninat really did pity them.

"She isn't particularly maternal," added Na'dia, thinking that the palulukan was only too happy to offload her cubs on to her mate, or anyone else who could be vaguely trusted. Of course it helped if the proposed carer understood an angry mother could tear them limb from limb if she wasn't happy with the outcome.

"Why did you come back?" asked Ninat. "You know the tsamsiyu will kill you."

"If they can catch me," she replied, wishing she could add some emotional inflection to the electronically generated voice. "I came back for two reasons – or rather three. I missed my sisters, and your brother." She blushed a little, confirming to Ninat that while she might have been possessed by a palulukan, she still had very strong feelings for Txep'ean. "The main reason I returned was to teach you how to speak to palulukan."

"But they are evil!" exclaimed Ninat.

"Arrogant, overbearing, bloodthirsty, bossy, but not actually evil," said Na'dia. "I admit they like to play with their food, which is a little hard if you happen to be the food. But I'm sure that yerik would think the Na'vi are evil, if they use the same standards you are judging the palulukan by - although palulukan do have an absolutely wicked sense of humour."

"You talk about the demons as though they were people," objected Ninat.

"They are," asserted Na'dia. "Palulukan are a lot smarter than Na'vi." Unless you counted the palulukan's mate, she thought to herself.

"That's not hard if you are using Peyral as the measure," said Ninat doubtfully.

Na'dia laughed merrily. While her absent sister was both a lovely person and a great hunter, she wasn't exactly the sharpest knife in the kitchen, although Ninat was doing her something of an injustice – there were many less intelligent Na'vi than Peyral.

It was only after hearing Na'dia laugh that Ninat finally relaxed, finally understanding that it really was Na'dia, and not some walking ghoul possessed by the spirit of a demon.

A week later Ninat wasn't so sure. Na'dia was worse than Ney'tiri as a teacher. She had absolutely no patience, and if she hadn't been limited by using the pe'dehayu Ninat was sure Na'dia would have been screaming at her in frustration.

Of course some of the problem was trying to learn sign from someone who couldn't speak – and sign was based around Ìnglìsì, not Na'vi. Although if it had been the other way around, Ninat was sure it would have been a lot easier. Singers, as everyone agreed, knew how to teach properly.

It was hard enough slipping away from the rest of the gatherers every morning, and making up the time she lost learning. There were starting to be snide comments that she was slacking off.

Today Ninat had forced Na'dia to stop, and mostly in self-defence initiated play with her sister. Na'dia's passionate nature readily came to the fore, and it was late afternoon before they finally ceased play. Ninat would not be returning with any fruit at all today.

Na'dia was lying on her stomach having her back massaged, her head resting on her crossed arms. Ninat was admiring the curve of Na'dia's breasts spilling out on either side of her rib cage. It really wasn't fair, she was thinking, that such a small girl had such an abundance of breast.

"Mmmm," said Na'dia, without the assistance of her pe'dehayu, which was lying discarded with the rest of their clothing. It turned out she was just as vocal during play as she had been previously, only now the noises she made were a lot more primal than words.

Of course, there was a way to communicate without words.

Ninat picked up Na'dia's queue in both hands, and started gently stroking it. Na'dia arched her back, groaning at the incredibly erotic caress.

Ninat considered what Na'dia had said to her yesterday, about linking to the palulukan, how there was a strong bond of affection but no entwining of their personalities, although they both shared the same memories now. In that it was very unlike what tsahaylu created between male and female Na'vi, although that might have been something to do with Na'dia being neither Na'vi, human or palulukan.

Despite what Ninat had told everyone, there never had been any male she was really interested in mating, and while she enjoyed looking at the young men at the swimming hole, they did not excite her the way that Na'dia did. Also, if what Na'dia had told her was true, there was a strong chance that Na'dia's affections wouldn't be permanently fixed by the bond, although Ninat's would be fixed for life. Na'dia should still be able to bond with Txep'ean, but Ninat could live with that. She just hoped Na'dia could forgive her for what she was about to do.

Ninat whispered, "Nga yawne lu oer," and brought their queues together, the pink tendrils entwining.


	22. Chapter 22

Eywa, Ninat's hands were incredible, thought Na'dia, her mind totally blissed out. What was she doing? It was making her wet all over again.

She heard Ninat whisper, "I love you."

Na'dia wanted so much to say it back to her, tears suddenly welling from her eyes at her inability to say those words, those few words which meant everything.

A second later, she found she could say a lot more. A wave of love surged into her brain, washing over her entire consciousness. Na'dia flipped over in shock, her eyes wide open, to see Ninat holding the ends of their queues together. What had she done?

"I have Chosen you, my love," said Ninat aloud, her smile bitter-sweet, in answer to Na'dia's unspoken question.

Na'dia's hands moved to break the bond, to save Ninat from the consequences of her actions, but she knew without knowing that it was already too late to change. The bond had been made. Her hands stilled, and then drew Ninat's lips down to hers.

Afterwards, after they made gentle love, they conversed, Na'dia's thoughts replying to Ninat's spoken words.

"_You gave up your chance for a mate, children. Imperilled your place with the clan."_

Na'dia knew that her love for Txep'ean was untouched. It still glowed deep within her, but had been joined by the cool fire of his sister's love. Both existed within her – one complete, the other...waiting.

"Since the first time I Saw you, I never wanted anything else," said Ninat. The glow of truth from within her spirit would have lit up the darkest night. "Even if I have to share you with my brother. And now, I have a mate, so I have not given anything up."

"_But children_..."

"I will share yours," said Ninat firmly. "And if the clan will not have us, I will not have the clan."

That, it seemed, was that.

Or was it?

A wicked thought bubbled to the top of Na'dia's mind.

"_I look forward to watching you explain to your brother what you have done."_

Ninat spluttered with mock indignation, as her eyes lit up with laughter. "Demon!" she cried. "You really are possessed by a palulukan."

Na'dia proceeded to demonstrate just how demonic she could be, by tickling her lover unmercifully – although that was more difficult than it sounded, as she had to hide from Ninat exactly where she was going to strike - which was not an easy thing to do, when one was linked in tsahaylu with one's victim.

Eventually she took mercy upon Ninat, and allowed her to breathe again.

"There was one other reason why I did this," said Ninat. "It was going to take forever to learn sign at the rate you were teaching me. Now you can just..." She made a fluttery gesture with one hand.

"_I've only been on the other end. The palulukan did all the work on me. I've never done this, not to anyone."_

"I trust you," said Ninat, her huge eyes wide open.

Na'dia swallowed. No-one had trusted her to do anything. Not since she was nineteen and whole, and never anything like this. But if she was going to do this, she had to have no doubts - none whatsoever. Na'dia searched inside herself, seeking her knowledge of sign. When she thought she had it isolated, she took the amorphous spaghetti strands of knowledge and wrapped them up into a tight ball. It was now or never.

...Ninat was laughing as she ran across the street with her best friend. If they made the trolley bus, they would get to the cinema while the trailers were still running. A brilliant light shone behind them, like a backlight on stage, only hotter. Much hotter. Ninat drew in her breath so she could scream from the sudden burning pain, only for her throat and lungs to be seared by the superheated air. Then a great hand picked her up, and flung her through the air, and everything became quiet...

...She was lying on her front, crying out from the pain, though she had no voice. It didn't matter, because no-one could hear her. So she stopped trying to scream, and hoped that the agony would end soon. But it never did...

...The therapist showed her a printed card, and made a sign with his hands. Ninat blinked to show she understood – it hurt too much to nod. She repeated the sign, trying not to See the raw scar tissue on her arms and hands...

...The lips of the surgeon told her that the reconstruction of her vocal chords was successful, and she could go home in a few days. Ninat signed that she had no home...

The convulsions wracking Ninat's body gradually ceased, as did her screams. She curled into the foetal position and wept, while Na'dia held her tightly.

"_I'm sorry, I'm sorry. Please forgive me."_

Ninat slowly sat up and shakily signed, "I remember burning, and endless pain. Is that what will happen here, if the humans return?"

Na'dia's shoulders slumped in relief, not realising that she had been anxiously holding her breath. Memories of her injuries must have been tangled with those about learning sign. She nodded.

"How can they do such a thing, to their own people?" signed Ninat, each sign now fluid and precise. It had taken almost two years for Na'dia to become as fluent. It seemed that the transfer of her knowledge of sign had been successful, but at what cost?

There was no possible answer for Ninat's question, not that Na'dia could really understand – especially now she was not human.

"What happened to your friend Tatyana?" asked Ninat, using her own voice now. "She was with you when you were burnt."

Oh, god. Ninat could remember the nuke. Na'dia had not thought of Tatyana for years, but she could remember her freckled snub nose, merry eyes and brown hair as though it was yesterday. "Her body was never identified," signed Na'dia sadly. "There were so many – over half a million."

There were several minutes silence, while Ninat tried to grasp the concept of so many people dying, all at once. She shook her head, unable to grasp the numbers, and then looked deep into Na'dia's eyes.

"I See you now," she said quietly. "I don't think I ever did before, not really."

Na'dia squeezed her hand. She was wrong, so very wrong.

"There is one thing I am going to tell my brother, though," said Ninat. "If he ever thinks it will be easy learning through tsahaylu, he needs to have his head examined. Quick, yes – easy, no."


	23. Chapter 23

It was well after sunset. Peyral and Ney'tiri were waiting by the deep pool, the two pottery jars carelessly dumped on a bed of moss.

"Where is she?" snapped Ney'tiri, glaring at Peyral. "She is late."

Peyral thought that she had never seen Ney'tiri in such a foul mood. It seemed that abstaining from mating with Zhake to avoid pregnancy was aggravating her normally volatile nature more towards that of an 'angitsa in rut. It had been almost a month since they last performed Uniluke, so perhaps it wasn't that surprising. "Ninat promised me that she would be here," said Peyral calmly. "She always keeps her promises."

"Well, if she doesn't keep this one," snarled Ney'tiri, pacing up and down, "She is out. I've had enough of her moods."

"What about your moods?" asked Peyral. "You haven't been that easy on her. How can you expect to be the future Tsahik if you can't control your own temper?"

Ney'tiri was saved from replying to that question by Ninat's appearance. She barked, "What are you looking so happy about?"

Ninat flicked up her brow in response to this attack. This was clearly going to be as difficult as when she had accidentally broken Ney'tiri's toy ikran when they were young girls. "Aren't I allowed to be happy?"

Peyral started laughing. "Aren't you the sly one," she chuckled. "When did this happen?"

Ney'tiri looked puzzled, while Ninat's cheeks darkened slightly. "Today."

"Ney'tiri, you See less than your Zhake when you are in a bad mood," teased Peyral. "Look at her! Ninat has Chosen, and you can't even See that. Come on, Ninat! Who is the lucky one?"

"I asked my lifemate to come here, so you may See my Chosen one," said Ninat.

"But Uniluke is forbidden to males!" objected Ney'tiri. Was Ninat lost to all propriety? Her mother had told Ney'tiri how abrupt and disrespectful she had been when asked about her unhappiness, and now this?

Ninat smiled, turned slightly and held out her hand to the forest. Her two sisters were surprised, no, stunned to see Na'dia step out of the dense undergrowth to take the extended hand.

There were several seconds of dead silence, until Peyral said, "Well, that explains an awful lot." It seemed that nothing could ruffle her calm demeanour, not even this.

"Are you both insane?" hissed Ney'tiri. "She is female, and she has been expelled from the clan. She herself admits she is possessed by a demon."

Noting angrily that Ney'tiri had not used her lifemate's name, Ninat retorted, "No more insane than the daughter of the olo'eyktan who abandoned her betrothed to mate with a dreamwalker. And yes, I had noticed that Na'dia is female - very female." Ninat gave Na'dia a sly sideways glance, one that made Na'dia glow hotly all over her body.

Peyral sat down on a tree stump, leaning back against the trunk of the fallen forest giant and crossed her legs.

Ney'tiri turned on Peyral. "Why aren't you saying anything? You are her friend. You should be telling her not to do this. It is against all custom."

"If they have mated before Eywa, then there is nothing that can be done," said Peyral reasonably. "So I thought I would just make myself comfortable right here and enjoy the fun of watching you two fight, until it ends the way it always does – when you tell Ninat that you are sorry for losing your temper, and let her have her way."

Peyral's words must have had an impact on Ney'tiri, as she said rather doubtfully, "Do I really do that?"

"Yes!" chorused Peyral and Ninat. "You do!"

"Oh," said Ney'tiri weakly, and sat down next to Peyral, all the wind let out of her sails.

"What are you going to do about Txep'ean?" asked Peyral. "He's going to be disappointed."

"I don't think my brother will be too disappointed, as long as he doesn't mind sharing," said Ninat. "Na'dia says she still wants him, Eywa knows why."

Both Ney'tiri and Peyral looked disturbed at that suggestion, when Peyral asked, "How do you know what Na'dia wants? She can't talk."

Na'dia was getting increasingly irritated being spoken about as though she was elsewhere. Her hands flicked quickly through a series of signs which caused Ninat to giggle.

"She just said based on the current level of discourse neither of you are displaying a great deal of talent in the area of speech," Ninat informed the pair. "All noise and hot air."

Two heads swivelled towards Na'dia, and then swivelled back towards Ninat. "You're just making that up," accused Peyral. "I don't believe you."

Ninat retorted, "Na'dia is using sign. It's what deaf tawtute use to communicate between themselves."

Na'dia signed and was dutifully translated by Ninat, "Ask me a question to which only I would know the answer."

Ney'tiri asked suspiciously, "What is the grey rock that the tawtute want used for?"

"Unobtanium is used as a high temperature superconductor with specific applications in power generation, interstellar travel and transportation, not to mention playing a key role in the manufacture of hyperchips..."

Ninat stopped translating and complained, "I don't understand any of those tawtute words, and they are hard to say."

"I do," said Ney'tiri grimly. "I have discussed these matters with both Zhake and Na'dia, but no-one else."

Peyral pointed out a flaw in Ney'tiri's logic. "If Na'dia taught Ninat sign language by tsahaylu, then she could have taught her about the grey rock the same way. So therefore Ninat could know all about the grey rock and be lying about the sign language, which she learnt the same way and couldn't possibly be using to talk to us..." Peyral's voice trailed away, as she realised she was in a circular argument. "Ninat is telling the truth. Na'dia can talk by wiggling her fingers instead of her tongue."

"Na'dia says we have a number of problems," said Ninat. "The first one is how to get you to open the jar and make a start on drinking the antidote. We did come here for Uniluke, after all."

"I'll drink to that," said Peyral. She lunged for the closest of the pottery jars, ripped off the lid and plunged the bowl in, filling it almost to the brim, before taking a good swig and passing it around the circle.

Discussion then started in earnest on the remaining problems – what to do about the clan and its rules around mating and who could belong, the consequences of possession by palulukans, devising stratagems to land Txep'ean into Na'dia's evil clutches, and last but not least, how to get Tareyu to finally declare for Peyral. This was thirsty work, which required many libations by all from the bowl, and many of the plans were not exactly well thought through.

"Is it hard to learn sign?" asked Ney'tiri, her eyes crossing as she tried to focus on Ninat, who wasn't helping by swaying from one side to the other.

"I dunno," slurred Ninat. "Na'dia poured it down here," she held up her queue, "So it ended in here." Ninat tapped her head. "It wasn't very nice. I think doing it the slow way will be better."

By this time Na'dia had demonstrated use of her pe'dehayu, although it was getting difficult to understand as she was increasingly mistyping her words, and the predictive functions got seriously misqueued. Some of the juxtapositions it created caused general amusement, especially when she was asked about tawtute contraception, when somehow the rhythm method was described as special happy time.

Ninat drunkenly said, "Na'dia, show us the signs for all the different types of play, like you showed me this afternoon. You know, the vulgar ones."

Na'dia rolled her eyes and proceeded to demonstrate each of the requested signs, to shrieks of hilarity. Not surprisingly, the non-signing members of the circle managed to guess the meaning of a significant number of these signs without prompting from Ninat. The evening went rapidly downhill from that point onwards.

The following morning all four members of the tsumuke'awsiteng were floating in the pool, trying to remember the brilliant solutions to their problems they had devised the previous evening. They had all seemed so clear and obvious, even sublime at the time. However, there was one positive outcome from Uniluke, even if the solutions that they actually remembered tended towards the more ridiculous end of the spectrum. The tensions that had been pulling the circle apart had been blown away, like one of the eastern sea fogs before an offshore breeze.

"I think it will be too much for the Omaticaya to accept me as a clan member," said Na'dia. "I will be pushing at too many boundaries for most of them. It will be enough to be mated to Ninat and Txep'ean, and to be part of this tsumuke'awsiteng."

Peyral asked, "How are you going to get Txep'ean to play ball?"

The other two women sniggered at her choice of words.

Ignoring the low minds of her two sisters, Na'dia typed out her answer on her pe'dehayu. "Txep'ean is an honourable warrior of the Omaticaya. He gave me a commitment, and I have not released him from his word. He will have no choice but to follow where I lead, even though I am outcast."


	24. Chapter 24

"How did you get the palulukan to back off when it was about to kill me?" asked Ninat. This question had been troubling her for some days now.

The two young Na'vi women were waiting for Txep'ean to appear, comfortably ensconced on a fallen tree trunk. His sister had told him that there was something that she had to discuss with him in private, away from the camp – well away, where no-one could possibly overhear them.

Na'dia looked embarrassed. "I told him that all the Na'vi in this range belonged to me, and that he did not have permission to hunt them," she signed. "That's the reason why I can no longer be Omaticaya. As far as the palulukan are concerned, I own them now, and have full rights to do with them as I please. If I am to become Omaticaya and subject myself to the laws and customs of the clan, I would have to surrender that right, and any palulukan would have the right to take Omaticaya as prey. Of course, a palulukan could always challenge me for the right to hunt the Omaticaya, and I would have to fight to retain that right, or surrender it."

"I don't see why a palulukan would do as you told him," said Ninat, looking puzzled.

"As far as they are concerned, I am palulukan," said Na'dia. "A palulukan on two legs."

"But you are Na'vi," protested Ninat.

Na'dia made a strong sign of negation. "I am no Na'vi, if indeed I ever was," she stated. "Not any longer, not after my sensei changed me, gave me her memories and let me see Eywa. Another palulukan can feel my mind, and sees nothing but another one of its own species – one of the old ones. For a palulukan, physical form is not the important thing – it is more the strength and cast of mind that makes one a palulukan."

Ninat started to look worried. "What if one does challenge you?" she asked worriedly. "Would you fight? Could you beat it?"

"It depends," replied Na'dia, tilting her head as she considered her answer. "If it was a young one, like the one you saw, yes, I could defeat it, but I would probably have to severely injure or kill it in the process, as it still has a substantial physical advantage over me. That is considered bad form in polite circles. It's much better to manage it without violence, purely by a combination of intimidation and negotiation. If it had been an old one, like my sensei...probably not. I would have to give way, if I wanted to survive, although most of the old ones wouldn't bother fighting me over the Omaticaya."

"Why not?" asked Ninat. Now her interest was piqued. After all, the clan was the centre of her existence, so what would render fighting to own the Omaticaya as a source of prey as being a bother?

The answer was very blunt. "There isn't that much meat on a Na'vi to make it worth the effort of a challenge – unless, of course, the Na'vi were taking too many of an old one's game from its range. In which case, the palulukan would be looking to cull the numbers of Na'vi to preserve the value of its territory."

"Oh," she said, and shivered. She appreciated the importance of taking the minimum amount of kills from a range, now. She had no wish for the Omaticaya to attract the attention of a palulukan.

"Na'dia?" asked Ninat, in a wheedling voice. An amusing thought had struck her.

"Yes, my sweet," signed Na'dia, wondering where her lover was going with this.

"If, from a palulukan's perspective, you own the Omaticaya, you have the right to do whatever you want, right?" Ninat was looking positively evil.

"Yes."

"Couldn't you just take Txep'ean, and do with him as you wished? Not to eat, but for other things."

Na'dia burst out laughing. She had not considered this as an option, although she thought it wasn't necessarily the most productive way to start off a long-term relationship with a Na'vi male. Although, on the other hand, it was probably exactly what her sensei would do in her position.

After she recovered from her laughter, she signed, "I don't know if they realise this, but the tawtute at Hell's Gate belong to my sensei now – as do I, at least as far as she is concerned. She thinks of me as something of a wayward cub – a little flaky and strange, but with her heart essentially in the right place."

"Doesn't it bother you, being owned by a palulukan?" asked Ninat. She still wasn't sure how she felt about being owned, even by Na'dia.

"No," replied Na'dia, smiling. "I belong to my sensei in much the same way as I belong to you."

When she put it like that, it didn't seem that bad to be owned by a palulukan, thought Ninat.

There was one consequence of her action in saving Ninat that Na'dia had not mentioned. If the Omaticaya starting taking too much game, as the 'owner' of the Omaticaya, at least as far as palulukan were concerned, it was Na'dia's role to cull the clan. If she did not do this, Na'dia would be hunted down and killed mercilessly as unfit to live.


	25. Chapter 25

The unmistakeable lifesign of an adult Na'vi male was approaching. Na'dia did not need to guess who it was. She had committed this particular energy pattern to memory.

Na'dia signed to Ninat, "Your brother is coming."

Her lover nodded and replied, "I shall do as you requested." She walked towards the figure that appeared on the other side of the clearing. When she reached her brother, Ninat said, "Be gentle with her." She faded into the undergrowth, leaving Txep'ean standing alone, looking across the clearing at Na'dia, a confused expression on his face.

He made a decision, and came across to where Na'dia was standing. He said, "I did not expect to see you here."

She raised a brow at his statement, as though this was a question unworthy of an answer. The silence seemed to unsettle him.

"Can you speak?"

She shook her head. Na'dia had thought about this meeting for some time, and had decided that it would be unwise to use the speech functions of her pe'dehayu.

"Is it true what the Tsahik said? That you are possessed by the spirit of a palulukan?"

Na'dia nodded. When Txep'ean went to turn away, she grasped him by his arm, preventing him from leaving. Surprised, he did not attempt to release his arm from her firm hold, and allowed her to take his bow from his free hand. Na'dia then freed his arm, and went to hang the bow from a low branch of a nearby tree. She knew how important it was to keep the weapon away from damp – and how funny males were about their weapons. For that matter, so was Na'dia – she always made sure her swords were kept dry and clean.

He watched her bemused as she returned to stand in front of him. Na'dia settled with her two feet in a relaxed stance, breathed in as she lifted her arms to shoulder height, and then allowed them to fall, as she breathed out, totally emptying her lungs. When he stood there like a...well, a male, she repeated the movement, feeling the sense of well-being that always accompanied this movement.

Txep'ean stated, "You are intending to teach me, as I asked." His expression was guarded and wary, as though he did not trust her.

She made a gesture of assent, and repeated the relaxation movement a third time. Finally, he understood that he was to copy her movements, and did so.

That morning, she taught him some relaxation techniques, together with some of the basic stances and transitions. It turned out that he was not a bad student, and readily picked up what she wanted him to do – not only that, but his form was good as well. She hardly had to correct any of his movements.

When Na'dia thought he had had enough, she stopped the lesson, retrieved his bow and returned it to him, bowing politely. After he accepted it, he made a clumsy bow – this was not a normal gesture in the Na'vi vocabulary of movement, so she supposed that would have to do. In time he would get better at it.

Before he could leave, Na'dia pointed to the sun, drew an arc from east to west, pointed at him and then pointed at the ground.

"You want me to return here tomorrow?" he asked.

She repeated the gesture of assent she had used earlier.

Txep'ean nodded once, and left without further ceremony.

As soon as he departed the clearing, Ninat reappeared. Na'dia had felt her watching the entire lesson.

"You didn't offer him much encouragement, Na'dia," said Ninat. "I thought you would have jumped his bones by now."

Na'dia signed, "I don't want to rush him. It will be strange for him, getting used to me. Communication is one of the biggest parts of a relationship, and until he feels comfortable with me that just isn't going to happen."

Still, Na'dia was a little worried that he would not return the following day, so it was with much relief she felt his life energy returning to the clearing.

This set the pattern for the next few months. In the morning, Na'dia would train Txep'ean in the forms of taekkyon, then she would gather fruit with Ninat during the afternoons – although more often than not they would end up making love. Every few days she would make a point of meeting Peyral and Ney'tiri, to teach them both some sign. The interesting thing was that Txep'ean was picking up a large amount of sign just through her taekkyon lessons – faster than both her two sisters of the tsumuke'awsiteng – and she doubted he was aware that he was doing so.

And in the evenings, sometimes Ninat would stay with Na'dia, and other times she would sleep alone, while her lover slept at the Omaticaya camp.

Then, there was always Uniluke. A girl had to have some fun with her friends, after all.

She was surprised at how patient Txep'ean was. He didn't push her to start working on combat forms, just accepting her tuition and pacing, although of late he was looking twitchy, as though he wanted to try something a little more challenging than the basic forms she was teaching.

So the next morning, after the relaxation exercises, she stopped him from starting their normal routine.

Na'dia signed, "Strike me."

He hesitated, and said, "But you are a woman!"

Na'dia's vision flared red, and in less than two seconds, he was lying on the ground, struggling to breathe, after a receiving a series of solid blows, the last one of which struck the nerve complex below the ribs that was analogous to the human solar plexus. Na'dia offered him her arm, and hauled him to his feet.

She signed again, "Strike me. Hard."

Txep'ean made a half-assed effort, and ended up lying on the ground again, after she landed another blow under the ribs.

The next time he made an attempt to hit her, he was angry, but instead of hitting him under the ribs, she swept his legs out from underneath him. She didn't want to paralyse his diaphragm and have him suffocate, after all. She had much better things for him to do.

This time, Txep'ean got the message. He was unlikely to hurt her, no matter how hard he tried.

"Use what you know," she signed. Slowly she ran Txep'ean through what she had done in each case, and demonstrated how he could have blocked or countered each blow by using the moves she had taught him.

An expression of understanding spread across his face. He had wondered why she had been teaching all these moves that seemed more like a dance than anything else – he had been itching to find out when he was going to be taught how to fight, and now he realised everything she had shown him was with deadly purpose. It was all blocks, counters, recoveries and strikes, every single move.

It was just as well that Na'vi were tougher than humans. She hammered him hard, and often by the end of a lesson he would be left bruised and bleeding. Na'dia wondered what he was telling his friends in the clan, how he was explaining his battered appearance. After all, he couldn't use the excuse that 'I fell and hit my head on the doorknob' – no doors out here. But he kept on coming back for more, and he learned fast. She didn't give him any choice.

So she was surprised one day when he pulled a counter she had never seen before, and found herself spinning over his hip towards the ground. She twisted to break hold, but all Na'dia managed to achieve was to bring him down to the ground with her. Txep'ean had her pinned by each wrist, and was straddling her waist – she was pinned, and could not break from his hold. He was, after all, quite a lot stronger than she was.

After a couple of brief, futile struggles, she stopped and looked into his eyes. His look of triumph slowly shifted, darkening to something entirely different, when she felt her heart flutter. Her body softened and she bit her lip, wishing that he would kiss her.

Eywa granted her wish. Txep'ean leant down to kiss her gently. Her lips parted, inviting his tongue within, and soon she found that his hands were cradling her face and her arms were wrapped around him.

However, while she loved the sensation of the kiss, she had to ensure that the respect a student had for his sensei remained, so she twisted slightly and suddenly Txep'ean found that he was lying on his back, a heel strike hitting him in what seemed her favourite area to strike – just below the ribs. He gasped for breath, as she stood up and grinned at him.

Na'dia signed, "Never trust an enemy until she is completely within your control."

After Txep'ean got up, he nodded, and said, "That was a good lesson. I will remember that."

He bowed – much more gracefully than his first bow - and was about to leave when she signed, "From now, each time you better me, I will grant you a kiss. It may aid your progress to have some victory prize to strive for."

Txep'ean's skin darkened and he slowly smiled. "I will endeavour to learn even faster," he said. "Such a prize is worth winning."

"Bring your staff tomorrow," she signed.

Suddenly he coughed and spluttered. When Na'dia flicked up an eyebrow in question, he answered, "Ah, staff is often used as a nickname for...um...one's manhood."

Na'dia looked at him boldly as she gestured, "Is that the case? Perhaps you should bring them both."

She had never heard him laugh before.


	26. Chapter 26

"Your staff is very beautiful," signed Na'dia.

Txep'ean's neck and face coloured, a rush of blood darkening the tone of the skin. It seemed that he was very subject to double entrendres, and remembered yesterday's conversation very well, but she was right. His fighting staff was a beautiful piece of Na'vi craftwork. The shaft was aged ironwood – light yet incredibly strong, while each end was tipped with savagely curving teeth that her palulukan memories told her were from the body of an enormous sea creature. In comparison an Earth great white shark looked like a goldfish. The teeth, the blade of each being slightly more than a foot long, were socketed into each end, the roots fastened to the shaft by elaborate knotwork.

A gesture asked for permission to take the weapon. Txep'ean grinned, and passed her the fighting staff. To tease him, she ran her hands sensuously up and down the silky smooth ironwood while she maintained eye contact, and swayed slightly towards him. He groaned slightly and shifted uncomfortably, trying to surreptitiously adjust his loincloth.

"It is very large," she added, leaning it against his shoulder so she could sign, and rubbing her cheek against the flat of the tooth. "Much larger than I would have expected. Do you mind if I try it? I am almost overcome with the need to employ it in contest with you."

He burst out laughing, and gestured weakly to go ahead.

Na'dia took up the fighting staff again, hefting it to feel its weight and balance. She was right – it was a beautiful weapon, and perfectly balanced as well. Her father had loved the quarterstaff as a weapon, holding that it was one of the most effective hand weapons ever used by man. She made a few moves, simple thrusts and counters, before she started spinning it.

The blades whistled through the air as she spun the staff, dancing with it as it spun ever faster. She had forgotten how much fun it was, weaving a deadly shield around herself, until she screamed, "Haaaa!" as she viciously thrust the staff towards Txep'ean. The very tip of one blade touched the skin above his heart, but he did not flinch away, and a bright drop of blood slowly welled where she had broken his skin.

After she returned the staff to him, she signed, "You did not seek to counter my blow."

"I trust you," he replied. The simple words reflected the truth in his face.

She did not know how to reply.

Txep'ean frowned deeply. He added, "You cried out. I have never heard you give voice before, not since you were..." He hesitated. He did not want to say the words – saying them would make him remember his heart being ripped from his chest, when she was expelled from the clan.

Na'dia smiled wistfully. Her fingers twitching rapidly, she signed, "The words I wish to say are in my heart, but I no longer know how to shape my mouth to fit the words, although I can cry out when in the grip of strong emotion. When I bonded with the palulukan, she changed me so that I can See the life of Eywa. Since then..."

"There is a price for everything," stated Txep'ean. Na'dia smiled. He understood – few humans would, as they ever sought to avoid paying the price, although this did not seem to be a characteristic of the Na'vi.

The pair stood quietly, gazing into each other's eyes, when Txep'ean spoke again. "Can you sing?"

She honestly did not know. Na'dia drew in her breath, and to her surprise began to sing a simple lullaby that her father used to sing to her when she could not sleep.

"I do not recognise the words," said Txep'ean, after she stopped singing. "They were not Na'vi, or Ìnglìsì."

"No," she signed, and sighed. Her mouth still would not shape words. "The song was in my birth-tongue, Ukrainian." She spelt out the syllables of the unfamiliar word for him.

"U'krane'in," he repeated. "The words sound beautiful, almost as beautiful as the singer. What do they mean?"

"The song tells of children playing in the spring sunshine, amongst the new flowers, waiting for their grandparents to come," she answered. Her heart leapt into her mouth, and her eyes moistened. He had called her beautiful.

There were songs that Na'vi parents sang to their children that were much the same. He smiled, thinking of his own childhood, and made a statement that he had been thinking about for some time. "You are close to my sister Ninat, in the same tsumuke'awsiteng, although you are not Omaticaya."

Na'dia signed assent.

"She has been acting like one who has been Chosen, although there is no male that has claimed her."

There were several seconds of stillness, as she still did not know how to respond to his statement, even though Na'dia had been both hoping for and fearing this conversation for many months.

"I have known for many years that no male would ever find favour in my sister's heart," he said.

Hesitatingly, she signed, "We are mated before Eywa."

He smiled sadly. Txep'ean had suspected that Na'dia and Ninat were lifemates. It was against all custom of the Omaticaya, but he loved his sister, and would have her be happy.

Na'dia saw his disappointment, and felt compelled to tell him the truth. "Before my life was burnt away, when I was tawtute, my life was very unlike that of the Na'vi. I was attracted to both male and female – not in play, like among the sisters of the tsumuke'awsiteng, but for life."

Now he looked confused.

She continued her story, "After I was burnt with the fires of the sun, I allowed no-one to touch my heart, until I came to this world as a dreamwalker, and I fell in love with the forest. But my heart was still empty as it was when I was born as tawtute, until I met you, and I met your sister."

Txep'ean still looked confused.

"When Ninat joined with me in tsahaylu, she filled half the hole in my heart. I would have you fill the other half. That is why I wished to train you, so that you would come to know me as more than an alien dreamwalker possessed with the spirit of a palulukan."

Unbelievingly, he asked, "You wish to mate with me?"

"Yes," she signed. "Now and for all ways, as long as you share me with Ninat."

Slowly, he nodded his head. "I must think upon this, and talk to my sister. It is...different."

Na'dia added one other thing. "I can never be Omaticaya, Txep'ean. The Tsahik saw it before I did. I follow a different path."

"I think I understand," he replied cautiously, before flashing a brief smile. "But before I speak to Ninat, you promised me a lesson."

Although she was tempted to let him best her, Txep'ean would have known that she was doing so, and it would have shamed him. So she did as she always did – fought with all her skill and tenacity against him. That made the three kisses he won from her this day her even more precious.


	27. Chapter 27

Na'dia drifted through the forest, the soft blue light of Polyphemus illuminating the night. Since the first time she saw the bioluminescent glow of Pandoran plant life, and rejoiced in its glow, she had loved the night more than the day. The night was the time she still danced, both for herself, and for Ninat.

Something had called to her, pulling her away from her sleeping lover. Ninat had not even stirred when Na'dia left her in the shelter of her juvenile Hometree.

The Omaticaya still had not moved their encampment from the vicinity of the Tree of Souls. She had to work quietly around them, avoiding the sentries they had posted against predators. It was not hard, though, for she could feel where they were, despite the skilfulness of their camouflage.

She was not surprised to see Mo'at waiting at the base of the Tree of Souls.

"Oel ngati kameie, Na'diakhudoshin," called out Mo'at, her voice calm despite the presence the woman she had expelled from the clan. "You have been summonsed here to confirm your claim to hunt the Omaticaya."

Na'dia flowed forward until she stood alongside the Tsahik of the Omaticaya, to link with the tree. She had never done this before – it was quite unlike linking with a palulukan, or with Ninat. Na'dia felt the immensity of life on Eywa, all the countless memories of those past, held at bay by the presence of the Tsahik of the Omaticaya.

Mo'at's mental voice sounded inside Na'dia's mind, her thoughts softer and warmer than the razor cold thoughts of the palulukan.

"_It is time for you to learn of the compact, of how the Na'vi became The People, and the bargain we made with the palulukan."_

Na'dia was plunged into a dream – a dream such as she could never have imagined.

A palulukan watched as a huge...thing...descended from the sky on a pillar of white fire, burning the forest as it touched the embrace of Eywa. Small figures emerged from the thing, walking on two legs, wearing masks not unlike exo-packs. Understanding slowly came to Na'dia that the figures were human.

"_Yes. The Na'vi were once tawtute, sky people. Before the first songs."_

Prolemuris were snatched by machines, never to be seen again, until the first Na'vi walked outside the starship – for that was what it was - without masks. They did not look like or act like the Na'vi that Na'dia knew. They wore drab clothing, carried guns, and wielded tools that cleared away the forest. They were tawtute – sky people – and they cared nothing for Eywa.

After a time, countless swarms of Na'vi poured out of the starship, and they flooded across the land, clearing the forest and killing the wildlife. The palulukan gathered in great numbers from across the entire continent, and in an attempt to preserve the forest and their species, launched the first war that Pandora had ever seen.

The palulukan and Na'vi fought a terrible guerrilla war, laying waste a huge area of the forest and turning it into desert – the area that was now the great plans of the pa'li clans. What the palulukan lacked in firepower, they made up for with their hunting prowess and ruthlessness. Casualties on both sides were horrific, until less than one in twenty on both sides were left alive. This was a war to extinction.

Until a palulukan came across an injured Na'vi female.

Even palulukan became sick of the slaughter, and the loss of cubs and mates, and sires and dams. So the palulukan picked up the screaming Na'vi, and carried her away. It cared for the Na'vi female, keeping her alive, until it was well enough to undergo tsahaylu.

The Na'vi had not had proof that the palulukan were sapient, and all their attempts to communicate with them were unsuccessful. The discovery of the Na'vi female that they communicated through their queues, and through the sign language of their quills and flaps, was a revelation to her.

"_Her name was Tsahik. All who stand between the Na'vi and the palulukan honour her by bearing her name."_

The palulukan showed Tsahik how to see Eywa, showing her the beauty of this world, and made her an offer. If the Na'vi would abandon their weapons and technology, and live in harmony within Eywa, the palulukan would stop the war, and allow the Na'vi to survive. The price would be that the Na'vi would take no more than necessary to survive, and keep their numbers within limits.

Tsahik knew that the Na'vi were losing the war, despite their technological superiority. They were fighting not just the palulukan, but the entire planet. The Na'vi had nowhere else to go – their journey across the void between the stars had been a one-way gamble, fleeing from a dying world, and they could not return. She returned to the starship, and conveyed the message of the palulukan to the leaders of the Na'vi.

There was much argument, but eventually her passion and the prospect of failure won the day. The Na'vi leaders agreed to submit to the compact of the palulukan, all except one, a warrior named Olo'eyktan. At the gathering of the palulukan and Na'vi to seal the peace, he cried out the Na'vi were a free people, and would never submit to slavery under the rule of beasts.

Most of the remaining Na'vi hated the palulukan for the deaths and suffering that the war had brought, and the peace almost collapsed then and there. The palulukan and Tsahik communed, and an uneasy truce was wrought. The palulukan would not end the war, but would abstain from killing Na'vi unless their numbers grew great, or despoiled Eywa. In effect, the Na'vi and the palulukan agreed to hate each other.

This was accepted by the Na'vi, and by the palulukan. The Na'vi abandoned their technology, and scattered to the winds, rapidly sinking back to the status of a Neolithic culture. They had no choice but to learn to love Eywa, but having made that choice they prospered, and spread to every corner of Pandora.

Passed down from that time was the remembrance by the successors of Tsahik of the truce between the palulukan and the Na'vi, and the necessity to live within the constraints of Eywa. To do otherwise was to risk the anger of the palulukan, and the resumption of the war. That was why the Na'vi did not honour the palulukan as a totem animal, but hated and feared them, calling the black predators demons. But those who followed the way of Olo'eyktan, the way of the warrior, also had their place, and kept the ethos of the Na'vi as a free people, refusing to bow to the rule of the palulukan.

In time, the tensions between the way of Tsahik and the way of Olo'eyktan grew vital and strong, until they were the central core of the Na'vi – the love of freedom and the love of Eywa uniting the people in a vibrant culture that had lasted for thousands of years.

Speaking aloud, Mo'at said sadly, "You understand why you cannot be Omaticaya now."

Na'dia knew now why Mo'at had expelled her from the clan. She could not be one of the People while she was palulukan – to do otherwise would be to tear herself apart. But Na'dia still wished to know...

Before she could finish framing the question in her thoughts, Mo'at answered, "The People did not come from your world, from Earth. Many starships fled the dying world of the sky people. Who knows where their journeys ended?"

The woman who carried the spirit of a palulukan nodded. It was entirely possible that the Na'vi and humans sprang from the same source, thousands of years ago, on a far distant world. That was why the culture of the Na'vi called so strongly to her, to Jake Sully, and the other dreamwalkers.

"_Mo'at, you told me my soul was in danger."_

The Tsahik replied, "Your soul is in peril, Na'dia. You have chosen to cleave to the palulukan, and one day I fear that you must also choose between the path that you have taken and the Na'vi. I fear that that choice may destroy you, and the Na'vi that you love – Ninat, Txep'ean, Peyral and my daughter Ney'tiri."

Na'dia's face twisted in a savage snarl as anger filled her soul. She had never been given a choice – all choices had been stripped away from her except for one – the choice of life. How dare Mo'at accuse her of evil! She ripped her queue away from the glowing fronds of the Tree of Souls, and screamed defiantly at the Tsahik. Mo'at took a step backwards – the savage cry sounded just as did the hunting call of a palulukan.

The Tsahik blinked. Where had she gone? Na'dia had faded away like a ghost. She shivered, and feared for the lives of the Omaticaya. The last thing she felt from Na'dia was a terrible anger, a relentless fury at the world, hatred that would cut down any that stood in her way. Mo'at had been wrong to succumb to Txep'ean's pleading to help Na'dia pass through the Eye of Eywa. Instead, she had wrought a terrible thing – a palulukan spirit in the body of one who had no loyalty to the People – an alien dreamwalker.


	28. Chapter 28

Her blood boiled as she slipped through the night. Not even the soft glow of the foliage could change her mood. Na'dia dwelled on Mo'at's implied accusation that she was evil, because she carried the spirit of a palulukan. It wasn't fair. She had had no choice, no choice whatsoever – except the choice between life and death.

She found herself standing in the clearing by the river.

The blood was pounding in her head so hard, as though the entire percussion section of an orchestra had taken up residence inside the dome of her skull. Na'dia had to think, and slow the rush of hot blood that was threatening to overwhelm her. She drew her swords and took a deep breath, trying to centre herself.

But she didn't start her katas – instead, she began to dance. A wild, ferocious dance, filled with the savage joy of the hunt and the rush of salty blood at the kill. She had not really danced since she had passed through the Eye of Eywa - not like this. Not at all like this.

In this moment, she was both dancer and palulukan – without doubt or concern. Na'dia just was, no more and no less.

Someone was watching her.

Na'dia danced her way to in front of a bush, and stopped abruptly. She smiled, sheathed her swords, and held out her hand. She knew who was watching her. Na'dia had been watched from this place before.

Ralu reluctantly came out from behind the bush. The young boy looked as though he was about to burst with questions, when she placed a finger on her lips, and softly breathed out, her breath hissing.

He knew better than to make noise when there was danger. Ralu was going to be a great taronyu just like his father. Na'dia took his hand, and ruffled his hair, before she bent down under the bush to pick up his sleeping sister, balancing the girl on her hip.

She reflected wryly that the two children were going to catch hell from their parents for sneaking away at night. Although, how they had known she would be here she had absolutely no idea. After all, Na'dia had not known that she would be dancing here this night. Na'dia led the young boy back to the Omaticaya camp. Ralu looked in wonder as she walked straight past a sentry without a challenge, or any acknowledgement that she was there at all. He knew that she had been cast out from the clan, and could well have been killed on sight. She instantly went up in his estimation, almost as high as his father.

Both Wokan and Ilyana were asleep on their sleeping platform, under a small shelter. Na'dia released Raul's hand, and kneeling by Ilyana, gently touched her shoulder. The mother of the two children started awake, sitting up suddenly. Ilyana opened her mouth to cry out at the sight of the outcast holding her daughter, when Na'dia smiled, and held out the sleeping Tanhi for her mother to take.

"What..." Ilyana started to ask. Na'dia forestalled the rest of the question by shaking her head, to indicate that she could not answer. Ilyana took her daughter, and beckoned to her son to join her. Na'dia flashed a smile, and slipped away as Ilyana quietly scolded her son.

There was a familiar smell in the air, on the outskirts of the camp. Txep'ean was on sentry duty. Na'dia flitted towards the welcoming scent, sneaking up behind him. She slid her hands around his waist, making Txep'ean jump and turn in surprise.

On seeing her face, he frowned, and whispered, "You should not be here. It is dangerous."

She smiled, and drew Txep'ean closer, reaching up to pull his lips towards hers. His hands cradled her face, and they lost themselves in a passionate kiss.

All too soon, Na'dia found that she had forgotten to breathe, and regretfully broke away from the embrace. She started to sign, "I must go away for a time..."

A voice cried out, "It is the alien demon! Quick, kill her!"

Na'dia half turned, to see a female Na'vi loose an arrow at her. She flinched away, the arrow grazing her ribs, cutting a shallow wound in her side and barely missing Txep'ean. The woman was too far away to attack, and she was already reaching for another shaft, so there was no option but to flee.

As she sprinted, she reflected that tonight was not a good night to deal with the Omaticaya. What was worse, her wound was freely shedding blood, and leaving a clear trail any to follow. it was going to be hard to shed pursuit, and her ability to fade into the background would be of no use, not if they could smell and see the blood she was leaving behind.

Half-an-hour later, Na'dia was still being relentlessly hunted by dozens of Omaticaya, roused by that bitch of a woman, whoever it was. She was getting light-headed from loss of blood, and the pace was driving her to exhaustion. The real bad news was that they had almost encircled her, and she didn't have the speed left to break through the narrow gap that remained. She looked about her, and saw four atokirina drifting backwards and to one side. Na'dia dimly remembered Ney'tiri telling her of the sacred seeds that stopped her from killing Zhake, and decided that there was nothing to lose by taking this as an omen. Perhaps Eywa had a plan for her, and was trying to tell her something.

So she headed back in the direction of the atokirina.

Na'dia stepped onto a narrow trail, only to be faced with an Omaticaya hunter with an arrow strung on his bow. Only one thought crossed her mind – so much for portents from Eywa.

The hunter shifted his aim and loosed the shaft. There was no way he could miss – not an experienced hunter like this one.

So Na'dia was surprised to see the arrow thud into a tree trunk three feet to her right.

Wokan gestured furiously to her, hissing that there was no-one behind him, and her way was clear.

Gratefully, she took the hint, and ran. She hoped that he would not get in too much trouble, and imagined that he would tell some story of being tricked by her demon magics. Perhaps there was something in omens from Eywa.

There was a rapidly flowing watercourse a couple of hundred metres behind Wokan. She quietly slid into the water, and let the swift current carry her a couple of kilometres downstream. At least she did not have to worry about pursuit from the air, from taronyu mounted on ikran – not at night.

It was almost dawn when she finally found her way back to her Hometree, where Ninat was still asleep. She was stiff and cold, and weakness pulled at her limbs, and she almost collapsed at her lover's side, and knew no more.


	29. Chapter 29

A cold hand on her shoulder was shaking her awake. Na'dia growled threateningly, in an attempt to stay in the depths of unconsciousness, but whoever was trying to rouse her was relentless.

"Wake up," rumbled a deep male voice.

This was different. Despite her tiredness, Na'dia cracked an eye open to see Txep'ean's face looming over her. She smiled, and started to stretch voluptuously when the wound on her side pulled open.

"Yeow!" she shrieked, at the stinging pain on her rib cage. The arrow wound was deeper than she had thought – it was much more than just a paper cut.

"Stop being such a baby and hold still," he ordered, oblivious to the flash of annoyance in her eyes at his abrupt words. "Ninat, give me the lotion."

"Ow," muttered Na'dia, as the man she had previously thought of as her beloved applied a stinging lotion to her side, washing away the dried blood. He wasn't being very gentle, either - the rotten bastard.

"You were lucky that Zetey had not poisoned her arrow," said Txep'ean. "I told you that it was dangerous to come into the Omaticaya camp. Did you listen? No."

"Whatever were you thinking?" added Ninat, who was also glaring at her. "You know that the anti-tawtute faction would love to have your guts spilled on the ground."

When she righteously attempted to reply via sign, both of them snapped at her not to move. Na'dia scowled at them – she didn't remember Txep'ean objecting at the time of her kiss. He had been most enthusiastic at the time. It was times like this that she really regretted she had lost the power of speech. No doubt if she even tried to use the translator device on her pe'dehayu the siblings would tell her off for trying to move.

Na'dia snorted in disdain. As if a Na'vi hunter could kill her.

"Is that so, oh high and mighty one?" scolded Ninat, apparently reading her thoughts without the benefit of tsahaylu. "If Wokan hadn't let you through the circle, you would be dead by now. Txep'ean told me what happened last night."

Na'dia deflated a little – actually, more than a little, she deflated a lot. Ninat was right – she had been lucky that she had stumbled across Wokan rather than anyone else. But then, she had been trying to escape the hunters without killing anyone, so she had effectively been fighting with both hands tied behind her back. She tried to say something to refute the accusation, but all that came out of her mouth was a series of plaintive whines and yips, which sounded weak even to her ears.

"Ninat, hold the edges of the wound together," ordered Txep'ean rather brusquely. He took a spatula, and started to ladle some kind of honey-like fluid onto her skin, smoothing it over her injury. "Don't move, and only take shallow breaths until the resin hardens."

The sharp pain in her side eased as he applied the resin, which rapidly hardened on contact with the lotion into a clear but flexible dressing. Not only was it going to keep her wound clean, but it seemed it also it had mild anaesthetic qualities as well.

"This will peel off in four or five days," advised Txep'ean, "As long as you don't pick at it. Your wound should have mostly healed by then, if you are still alive, that is."

Did he have to mention about picking at the wound? The skin under the dressing immediately started to itch, and she desperately wanted to scratch. She had always peeled scabs off her knees too early when she was a child in Kiev, and her mother had always scolded her for not leaving them alone. Her father, on the other hand, had laughed, and told her that he had done exactly the same.

While she was waiting for the dressing to fully bond to her skin, Txep'ean added, "You are going to have to make yourself scarce. Last night's escapade stirred up a fire-wasp nest. Zhake and Ney'tiri told me that you should go away until things settle down, otherwise the faction will hunt you down."

She growled quietly. Na'dia did not want to go away right now, not when things were going so well with her lengthy seduction of Txep'ean, when a thought struck her. The two siblings could come with her. Na'dia looked hopefully at Ninat and Txep'ean, feeling a little like a puppy begging for a titbit, but was disappointed when Ninat said, "No, my love. We can't come with you – not if we wish to stay as Omaticaya. The faction have enough support to expel us from the clan if we are seen to be too close to you. Zhake and Ney'tiri need our loyalty in order to maintain control of the Omaticaya, especially since my brother has defected from the faction, thanks to you. They see him as a traitor."

"We don't have much time," said Txep'ean. "A hunting party was being formed when I left. I suspect they will follow my trail here, even though I was careful. I'm good, but I'm not that good. You have to go, right now. If we are lucky, we will have a little more than an hour to clean this place of evidence that you were here."

Sadly, Na'dia rose to her feet. Her neck was cricked from sleeping wrong, and she tilted her head to one side, and then the other, generating loud cracks from her spine. Ninat was right – it would be unfair for her to drag them away from the Omaticaya, from their roots. She sighed, embraced Ninat and then kissed her, and did the same to Txep'ean.

Just before she left the shelter of the small Hometree, she realised that there was one thing that she could do. Na'dia turned, and sang, "I love you..."

Na'dia gave Ninat and Txep'ean no time to respond. She melted into the forest, more like a ghost than a living being, and was gone.


	30. Chapter 30

Out of curiosity, Na'dia backtracked Txep'ean's trail towards the Omaticaya camp. She wanted to make sure that he and Ninat would have time to get away from her Hometree, in case the hunters were following him. She was vastly amused to find that the hunters were milling around one of the breaks in his trail, arguing about which direction they should be going. It seemed that Txep'ean had understated his abilities, and she was confident that both Ninat and Txep'ean should avoid any immediate consequences.

To confuse the hunters, she decided to leave a few obvious marks to get them to follow her for some distance, just to make sure.

She had considered returning to Hell's Gate to see her sensei, but decided against that option, at least for the moment. Instead, she determined to make for the open plains. Na'dia was curious to see if any remains of the ship that brought the Na'vi to Pandora still existed, although she was a little wary of what welcome a clanless one – particularly a voiceless dreamwalker – would receive from the pa'li clans of the plains. Food would be a something of a problem on the open plains, and she might have to rely on the uncertain hospitality of the clans.

Several days walking brought her to the edge of the plains. The transition was quite sudden, the forest thinning out over less than a hundred metres, almost as though Eywa had decreed that the forest would end at this point, to be replaced by an endless sea of grass, interspersed by the occasional Hometree.

There was only one problem. She didn't really feel like walking any more.

Na'dia lifted her nose in the air. The scent of pa'li on the stiff breeze told her she was downwind of a large herd, so it was obvious what she should do. She began to stalk her prey.

The pa'li herd was feeding amongst a profusion of flowers. There were no predators here, despite the closeness of the forest, so they were relaxed and happy. They were not aware of the hunter that was crawling unseen through the long grass, right in their midst.

The blood was flowing hot through Na'dia's veins, and she was shivering from anticipation. The mere act of stalking the herd was bringing thoughts of tearing and rending prey into steaming carcasses blazing into her mind. She could barely contain herself from starting a killing spree, of staining the earth with blood and revelling in the death-dealing of these stupid beasts. It would be an honour for them to be her victims.

But she was not here to kill, she reminded herself – constantly.

Na'dia flowed through the cover, selecting her victim – a large male, one of the alphas of the herd. Her muscles coiled, and she leapt forward to spring through the air, landing on the back of the pa'li. It reared in surprise at the unexpected weight on its back, but then settled. It had carried Na'vi before, and it knew there was nothing to be concerned for, that it would be asked to carry a rider for a time and then released to return to the herd.

Only the rider on its back was not Na'vi.

When Na'dia grabbed the queue of the pa'li and joined it in tsahaylu, the pa'li went mad. The most vicious predator of the direhorses – a palulukan – was on its back – no, was in its mind. It reared, and plunged, spinning on its feet, trying desperately to dislodge the killer, fearing the sudden icy agony of teeth and claw grasping its muscular neck and crushing it into painful death. Na'dia shrieked with joy at the blood rushing through her veins, at the adrenaline that hammered her brain with delight, as the pa'li bucked and spun like a bronco at an Earth rodeo, trying in vain to unseat her.

The herd was stampeding away from the sudden disturbance in its ranks – the pa'li Na'dia had chosen was broadcasting its fear and distress to the entire herd. She clamped down on its mind through the bond of tsahaylu, telling the pa'li stallion that if it didn't do as she wished, she would tear its head off.

The direhorse stopped bucking, and stood still, trembling in abject terror, its mind hovering on the brink of madness. Na'dia grinned toothily to herself, without feeling a moment of pity for the beast – after all, it was no more than had been done to her. Pandora was no children's paradise. She knew that now.

Still, she supposed the pa'li stallion was due some recompense for the terror she had subjected it to. Na'dia thought hard, and left the mark of a palulukan in its mind, to show other palulukan that this beast was claimed as prey by one of their own kind. You are mine, she thought. Even a pack of nantang would be reluctant to take this stallion as prey now.

Once the stallion settled a little, it was not difficult to urge it into a canter, and the miles quickly flowed beneath its hooves. This was much better than walking.


	31. Chapter 31

The rider did not answer the hail of the sentry. How could she?

Unlike the Na'vi of the forest, the plains clans grew fences of impenetrable brush around their Hometrees. Anyone attempting to penetrate such a barrier would be torn to shreds by the savage thorns, more like thickets of barbed wire than any plant from Earth. It was clear from the number of skeletons hanging on the brush that many animals had died attempting to do just that, their blood dripping down to enrich the soil for the plants that had killed them.

Of course, such a woody thicket would not be proof against fire, thought Na'dia.

"Hold!" ordered the sentry, repeating himself unnecessarily. She had heard him perfectly well the first time. "Who are you? What clan are you from?"

Na'dia allowed her fingers to play across her pe'dahayu. It announced, "Na'diakhudoshin belongs to no clan." Damn, she thought. The predictive functions of the damned piece of kit were on the fritz again. It made her sound as arrogant as hell. Then, perhaps she really had something to be arrogant about.

She guided her pal'li further into the light.

The sentry had his bow trained upon her. He said calmly, "Your mouth did not move. What witchery did you use to speak?"

She smiled thinly, and held up her left hand, showing all five fingers.

"You are uniltìranyu, a tawtute in a false body. We have heard of such, although no-one here ever thought to see one."

Inclining her head in agreement, Na'dia's fingers flew across her pe'dehayu. "I seek food and shelter this night, for myself and my pa'li." At least this time it didn't screw up her words.

The sentry nodded. "The Autìrol clan will shelter you tonight," he said. "But as a clanless one, you must leave on the morrow."

That was in line with the customs of hospitality. A clanless Na'vi could claim one night's shelter, but then must move on, never putting down roots, doomed to wander the world for the wrongdoing that caused her to be expelled from the clan.

"Where may I stable my pa'li?" she asked.

The sentry lowered his bow. Now she had accepted the forms of hospitality, she was bound to do no harm to the Autìrol. He was an older male, but still handsome. "I will ride him to the feeding ground," he said.

Na'dia shook her head, and rapidly typed one handed. "He is insane, and will try to kill any other rider. Just show me where." The constant fear from being linked to a palulukan spirit had driven the pa'li stallion mad. The only thing that kept the stallion from attacking her was the sure knowledge that she would kill it in a blink of an eye.

The expression on the sentry's face was filled with doubt, but he let it pass. Although she was tawtute, she may even be telling the truth. The sentry whistled loudly, presumably to summon someone to guide her. He commented, "You are very young to be clanless, even though you are tawtute."

The implication was that he was curious regarding the reason for her expulsion from her clan, although it was a gross assumption on his part that any tawtute remaining on Pandora would belong to a clan. Unfortunately for him, his curiosity would have to be unsatisfied, although she felt impelled to tell him something. "I am older than I look," she said through the means of her pe'dehayu.

An adolescent boy arrived, presumably to show her where to release her pa'li. The two males exchanged a couple of words, before the boy beckoned her to follow.

The boy led her to an enclosure holding hundreds of pa'li. She dismounted, and released the beast from the bond of tsahaylu. It immediately reared, and moved to attack the boy, when she growled softly. The pa'li flinched away, and she laughed, feeling almost as insane as her direhorse. The poor boy looked confused as she left him standing there.

When she flowed into the meeting space in the centre of the Hometree, the normal murmur of conversation ceased, every member of the Autìrol watching her as she took her rest in the Stranger's place, squatting at the right of the Tsahik and Olo'eyktan.

During the meal no word was spoken to her until the very end, when the Olo'eyktan said, "It is customary for a stranger to bring news."

His words fell into the silence like a stone into a pond. When she replied through her pe'dehayu, many of the Autìrol hissed in suspicion.

"Words are difficult for me," she said, "But all the world has heard of the skill of the drummers of the Autìrol. I would dance a story to your drums."

The leader of the clan nodded in agreement, and gestured to the unmarried men. A flurry of activity saw a large number of drums - all of different sizes, from the largest to the smallest - brought out ready for use. Na'dia clapped out a rhythm three times, and one of the drummers started to take up the compelling beat. Within a couple of bars, the air was throbbing with the cadence of the drums, making her head pound with the demand for payment of the rhythm.

Na'dia danced the story she knew best – her own – of how she came to be possessed by the spirit of the palulukan. For over a quarter of an hour she danced, until the sweat poured down her body, and her hair plastered to her back and shoulders.

The drummers were good, the best she had ever heard. They sensed the ending of the story, and built the tempo up until a crashing climax brought it to a close, leaving her alone in the middle of the meeting space, her breast heaving from the energy of the dance.

The Tsahik spoke for the first time. "A difficult story, but one that is not yet ended, I think."

"You truly are palulukan?" asked the Olo'eyktan. The expression on his face was wary, but Na'dia was pleased that they had read that much from her dance. She signalled assent with a small movement of one hand.

"Why are you here?" asked the Tsahik, abruptly.

This question – not altogether unexpected - required an answer in words, not movement. "I seek the birthplace of the Na'vi, so as to better understand myself."

There was almost a minute's silence, until the Tsahik said, "A guide will take you there, tomorrow." Na'dia was about to thank her, when the Tsahik added, "There is no need to thank. The sooner you find this place, the sooner you will be gone from Autìrol lands. We do not wish a palulukan to linger here."

This was one thing she liked about the Na'vi. They did not beat about the bush for politeness' sake. Calling the Na'vi direct was a bit like calling the shortest way between two points a straight line. Lies and deception were anathema to them. Still, it was somewhat disconcerting to be told direct to your face that your presence was not wanted – especially after the years of pity and politeness from humans concerned of committing an offence against politeness – or more to the point, political correctness.

Na'dia mused on these thoughts before she drifted off to sleep that night, which took much longer than she wished. It was much easier to sleep alongside Ninat than sleeping alone, here amongst the strangers of the Autìrol clan.


	32. Chapter 32

It was just after dawn.

The pa'li were stirring in the enclosure. Na'dia noticed that the entire herd except for one beast – her stallion – was penned up in one corner of the enclosure. It was calmly feeding from the most succulent flowers. Na'dia was wondering if the stallion could be viewed as some kind of allegory for herself. It seemed that the herd were so frightened of it that they were cowering in the corner – something like the Na'vi when they discovered she was palulukan.

The strange thing was that the pa'li had had no choice, just like her.

She chirped, like a taronyu calling her ikran. The pa'li came trotting docilely up to her, and waited. Na'dia linked, and waited for her guide to appear. She didn't have to wait long, although he did make the mistake of walking too close behind the pa'li, who lashed out with a ferocious kick. Although the guide might not have been as young as he used to be, he was still nimble, and only received a light clip to one shoulder. That didn't stop him from glaring at Na'dia, who shrugged. It wasn't her fault – well, not directly, although she had changed the stallion from being a typically gentle pa'li into an ill-tempered psychotic bastard of a direhorse.

The morning was cool and crisp. It was almost a pleasure to be up so early, riding out. Na'dia imagined that humans would have felt like this, riding out on horses from their castles to terrorise the peasants – go hunting, she meant. Na'dia had noticed that her thoughts were becoming more savage, the longer she was away from Ninat. Perhaps tsahaylu with her lover was acting like a governor on her more palulukan-ish tendencies.

The guide was not talkative, not even sharing his name with her. She supposed that this was all that she could expect, being a clanless one, let alone a tawtute. And while this was interesting from an anthropological viewpoint, there were distinct disadvantages from an information gathering perspective.

They had been riding for about three hours before he spoke. He pointed to a wooded rise that looked something like an Iron Age barrow from North-western Europe. "That is the place of our ancestors," he announced. "There is a way inside."

It seemed that was all the guiding that Na'dia would receive, although she was mistaken. "I shall wait here for a day," he announced. It looked like there was some tradition to stay away from the site.

Na'dia nodded, and urged her pa'li onwards. She had to circle around the rise until she found the opening to a tunnel, lined with stone. She dismounted, telling her pa'li not to wander, and started to walk inside. She had to crouch over – the outermost part of the tunnel had partially filled with windblown dirt, and was choked with plant growth, making it difficult to get inside – she had to push the dense growth aside so she could squeeze through. It appeared that few Na'vi made this journey. But this was only a small barrier – ten metres from the opening the tunnel deepened, and she could stand straight. The walls here were lined with bioluminescent fungus, so lack of illumination was not a problem. Not that there was much to look at – rock lined tunnels looked much the same no matter what planet you were on.

At the end of the tunnel she came to a half-open door – clearly part of an air lock. She tried pulling it further open, but corrosion – or at least lack of lubrication - appeared to have locked it in place. was able to squeeze through the door, ducking her head under the lintel. Inside, her head was less than an inch from brushing against the ceiling – this had clearly been built for beings shorter than the Na'vi. The interior door was also open – whatever interlocks had been in place between the inner and outer airlock doors had been removed.

Her ears flicked. She could hear a muted hum, and smell a faint but unmistakeable scent of ozone in the stale air. Something electrical was still operating, after all this time. Na'dia stepped through the inner door, into a dark passage, when she received another surprise – a few lights flickered, dimly illuminating the interior of what had to be a spacecraft. It seemed enough of the spacecraft was still operating to detect her presence, and turn on the lights.

A cold shiver ran down her spine. This was the bit in the movies she had always hated – when the hapless heroine went carelessly into the abandoned building or ship or spacecraft, only to be savagely attacked by ghosts or aliens or zombies, and torn apart in an explosion of gore.

The lights led Na'dia deep within the spacecraft, ducking through pressure doors and up ladders, her feet stirring old dust from the floor. She entered what appeared to be some kind of computing centre – except there was one thing that did not belong. Spilling out of a riser was something she had only seen at the Tree of Souls – a thick tree root, glowing with light, splitting into thousands of tendrils – each of which penetrated some piece of ancient high tech equipment. It seemed that Eywa had taken possession of this starship, and was using the computing facilities for her own purposes.

She tried to look into other areas of the starship, but to no avail – the rest of the starship was pitch black, far darker than any Pandoran night. Apparently Eywa had wanted her to see only one thing, but why? The flickering lights led her back to the entrance of the starship, and out into the open air. She was glad to get out of the enclosed space, with the walls of the starship pressing around her. It felt as though Na'dia had always been a forest creature, and her life as a human in the seething concrete canyons of Earth was nothing other than an unpleasant dream, or a story that someone had told her years ago.

The guide was waiting for her a respectful distance away from her pa'li. He gestured to her, impatiently wanting her to mount the direhorse so they could leave this place. She was only too glad. While the open plains had its own beauty, the beauty of open space and huge clear skies, Na'dia wanted to return home, to see the people – and the palulukan – she loved. In two weeks she could be there, if she hurried.

Distant thunder rolled in the cloudless sky. Na'dia looked up to see a sight she had never expected to see again – the contrail of a high-flying aircraft. No, not one, but two contrails. "Oh, fuck," she murmured, not realising she had spoken aloud. The contrails curved, and then disappeared. Na'dia managed to see the tiny dots of the Valkyrie shuttles making to descend somewhere on the plains.

Na'dia turned to the guide, her fingers playing across her pe'dehayu. "Ride!" she ordered. "Take news to the Omaticaya, to the Toruk Makto from Na'diakhudoshin, that the tawtute have returned, in two skyships. They will land somewhere on the plains."

The guide was looking at her with open mouth, his face filled with suspicion. She was a uniltìranyu, a tawtute. Had she summoned them here?

How she wished she could scream at him, and telling him that he was stupid. Humans would probably kill her, or worse, vivisect her to find out how she had transferred permanently into an Avatar. She forced her shaking fingers to type out, "Do not delay, not if you wish to live. If you do not, I will kill you myself!" She drew her two swords for emphasis – it seemed that changed his mind, as suddenly his pa'li leapt forward at a gallop.

She watched him leave, heading back for the Autìrol Hometree. There were no ikran there – the message would have to be carried by pa'li. How long would it take news to get back to the Omaticaya? A week? Longer?

Na'dia sighed, feeling the weight of the world on her shoulders. She was no soldier, but who else was there? The Autìrol had never seen tawtute before, so they had no conception of what they could do. She would have to be the one to go and spy on the humans.

But why had they come here, to the plains, and not made an assault on Hell's Gate? The firepower of their soldiers should have been able to easily clear all opposition from the former RDA facility, all the way to the edge of the forest. And then it struck her. There was no forest here.

The humans would be able to kill everything in sight, and you could see forever on the plains, day or night.


	33. Chapter 33

The humans had disembarked from the shuttles and established a perimeter. Na'dia had found a position on a slight rise that gave her a good perspective of the human LZ, and she could see that one of the shuttles had been fully unloaded and was being prepared for lift-off. There must be at least three hundred humans, all moving with the purposeful actions of the military, setting up tents with airlocks, emplacing automated turrets, and digging fortifications. She hissed to herself as she saw about ten tawtute using flamethrowers to clear back the long grass. She had been right – they were here for the clear fields of fire that they could not get in the forest.

She could only see four AMP suits, all engaged in unloading the other shuttle. Whatever their objective was, they gave every indication of being here to stay.

Na'dia would have no problems slipping in and out of the human position, if it wasn't for the automated defences. Their use of thermal motion sensors would not be defeated by her abilities. And if they had cameras monitoring the area as well, they could figure out what she was doing, if not how she was doing it. She had to find a way of defeating the technology before the humans finished setting up. There was no option than to do something incredibly stupid, right now.

A little over an hour later, she was crouching in the long grass, trying not to choke on the smoke from the burning foliage. The humans with flamethrowers were working in pairs, each one watching the other's back. The turret motion sensors would be turned off at the moment, to avoid accidental discharges. No troops liked working with flamethrowers in front of the automated turrets.

She worked her way around to the pair on the left flank, who had drifted further out than the other teams. So far so good.

One of the shuttles was lifting off, so as the pair turned to watch it lift off, Na'dia advanced into burnt area. Strangely, she wasn't afraid.

"Fuck, I wish I was leaving on that bird," said one, as he followed the shuttle's flight with envious eyes.

The other replied, "You're not wrong, mate. They aren't paying me nearly enough for this gig."

These were the last words either of them ever spoke. Two quick thrusts with her short swords killed them, their dying eyes focusing on her as she twisted each blade before withdrawing them. She quickly slashed off the left hand from one of the new corpses, sheathed her blades, and removed his id bracelet. Her final act was to pluck a grenade from his belt, pull the pin drop the grenade by the corpse and run – into the human position.

No one had seen anything yet – they were all watching the shuttle.

The sharp flat sound of a grenade exploding changed all that – especially since it was followed by the double boom of the two flamethrower fuel tanks going up.

Soldiers yelled, six running out into the cleared zone to try and help their comrades. They slowed suddenly as they saw the motionless bodies burning fiercely, and knew that any attempt to save them was hopeless. Na'dia, now inside the circle of automated weapons, was shaking inside at the thought of dying from fire. She had almost died once before, albeit from much fiercer flames than those that were now consuming the bodies of the two dead soldiers.

She had to get a grip on herself - otherwise she would be just as dead as those two men – or worse, a prisoner of the brutal aliens. Na'dia did not realise until much later that was the first time she had thought of her birth species as being alien.

But her insane gamble had been successful, at least for now.

There was no way she was going to put on the id bracelet. They registered heartbeat and other vital signs, and it would look very odd if one belonging to a dead man showed him as being alive – especially with the slower heart rate, higher body temperature and blood pressure of a Na'vi. Not while she was inside the camp, at any rate. She suspected she would only be able to do this incursion once – humans might be ignorant of the glories of Eywa, but they weren't dumb. So she quickly clipped the id bracelet to her belt.

Her bare feet fell softly on the grass, almost dancing as she came into the centre of the position, trying to keep track of the many humans clustered around her. If she bumped even one...

The sun was hot on her bare skin when she came across the commander of the position, standing at a table with a map spread over it. It seemed like he was a traditionalist, insisting on hard copy rather than using a pe'dehayu.

"Grant," he ordered to a subordinate. "We need to push out patrols to keep the indigenous at arm's length. Three patrols at all times – we have enough men to maintain that tempo. Within a week, the corpsicles will be defrosted, and we'll have two full battalions with all their heavy gear on the surface."

"Colonel Quaritch was fucking stupid not to decant them," said Grant. "If he had waited before launching the assault on this Tree of Souls place, there is no way he would have lost."

"I'm not so sure," replied the commander. "He was fighting in confined conditions that removed his technological supremacy, and the numbers that were gathering would have overwhelmed the perimeter at Hell's Gate. He had to do something, and the corpsicles take a week to activate. He just didn't have the time."

Grant nodded. "We won't have the same problem here. Once we have secured the beachhead, here, then we can work on taking Hell's Gate – especially after we thin out the blue monkeys."

"What was the explosion?" asked the commander.

"One of the flamer crews had an accident with a grenade," answered Grant, after listening to his com unit. "Stupid cunt must have hooked the pin with his gear, and took his mate with him."

The commander nodded. "Make sure all the grunts use rigger tape to secure the pins. I don't want any more accidents. Two dead in the first hour isn't good for morale. The men have to stay frosty."

"Yes, sir," said Grant. "I'll set up the patrol roster and routes, as we discussed."

"Good," replied the commander. "Dismissed."

His subordinate saluted, and left the commander thinking over his map. Na'dia realised that the alien soldiers were giving their commander a respectful amount of space. This was an opportunity that would probably not repeat itself. She drew one sword, the titanium blade ringing slightly as it left the scabbard.

The commander turned towards the faint noise, and an expression of horror crossed his face – he must have Seen her. His hand went for his sidearm, but she was quicker. A single slash of her sword removed his head, a brief fountain of blood erupting from his neck, and she caught the head in her left hand as the body slumped noiselessly to the soft earth. A macabre thought crossed her mind and she placed the severed head in the middle of the map table. That would do something for morale, no doubt.

It was time to leave - before she caught a serious case of dead.

She repeated the graceful movements she had danced to enter the position, skilfully avoiding the clumsy humans. She was halfway to the perimeter when there was a loud cry from the commander's position, and every soldier within sight brought his weapon to the ready position. They anxiously scanned their surroundings, but saw nothing. Na'dia managed to reach the perimeter without anything happening, but now the dangerous part was about to begin. The flashing red light on the closest turret indicated that it was active, so she just hoped that the id bracelet she had taken was still active.

As she crossed the perimeter, the turret swivelled towards her, and her heart leapt into her mouth -but the gun did not fire. The IFF function on the id bracelet must be working. The barrels of the guns were tracking her – they must be picking up the thermal signature of a Na'vi, but not firing – perhaps the targeting software needed better settings.

From behind her, someone cried, "There's something out there!"

"Where?"

"There!"

"I can't see anything. It's just heat haze, from the burn-off."

Na'dia swallowed, and tried not to make haste. If she ran, she might leave signs of her passage – it was best just to take her time, no matter how much she wanted to run.

It was not until Na'dia returned to the low rise that she relaxed, and collapsed to the ground. There was no way she was going to do that again. She removed the id bracelet and turned it off. She had no intention of letting the aliens use it to localise her position.

She wondered how long it would take the aliens to decide to put an observation post on her position – it had the best overview of the tawtute encampment of any of the surrounding landmarks – not that you could call this part of the plain as being exactly rich in landmarks.

Her stomach growled, letting her know that it had been some time since she had last eaten, and she had no food with her. The guide had been carrying it all. She would have to abandon her position, and find something to eat and drink, so she didn't collapse with hunger or thirst. The movies she had seen of fearless warriors in her position – alone against a numberless horde – hadn't ever seemed to worry about such mundane things. It would do her no good to be a hero, and collapse for lack of food and water.

So Na'dia walked to the back of the rise, out of line of sight of the tawtute, and chirped for her pa'li. There had to be something to eat somewhere around here.


	34. Chapter 34

Na'dia was bored. Bored, bored, bored, bored.

She would trail the alien patrols, cloaking herself in her ability to fade into the background, and pick them off one by one. Once she killed an entire patrol, but that left a bad taste in her mouth – not literally, of course. She was swok txe'lan after all, and there was no way she was going to eat some disgusting tawtute. It had just been no fun, not pursuing the terrified survivors of the patrol back to the alien encampment, making them jump at shadows. All she had left was a pile of steaming corpses.

The tawtute soldiers were whispering about something they called the ghoul. Apparently she had been honoured with a nickname. The Ghoul. She liked it.

What was worse than being bored was there was almost nothing around here that she could eat, and she was starving. The search for food was cutting seriously into her killing time.

And she missed Ninat. And Txep'ean. And Uniluke with her sisters.

Na'dia was as horny as hell.

Not only that, she was filthy. Her skin was itching with the layers of accumulated dirt and tawtute blood and gore. Even her teeth felt furry. She wanted to be clean, but there was nowhere to wash. Why hadn't the tawtute set up somewhere closer to a nice river or stream? Or even a pond? It was most inconsiderate of them. She could smell her own stink – Na'dia smelt almost as bad as a tawtute herself. She was, after all, wearing almost enough of their blood to be considered a tawtute herself.

Na'dia had forgotten that she had ever been anything else than what she was now.

She had to give up her position on the low rise. The aliens had established an observation post there, and emplaced three automated turrets to protect the approaches. So she couldn't even watch over the alien camp any more, and observe the aliens scurry about doing their incomprehensible alien things.

Why, oh why wouldn't they do anything different? She had been here for over a week now, and the aliens were showing a distinct lack of imagination.

Bored.

She had seen some scouts from the Autìrol, but they had withdrawn back from the alien position, after they had made contact with a patrol and lost one of their number. That had made her angry, that the aliens had killed one of Eywa's children, so she had wiped out the entire patrol in a fit of pique. The orgy of killing had left her curiously unsatisfied, so she had hovered around the perimeter of the camp that night, barely out of range of the guns, and howled for several hours. Just to spook the stupid aliens, and interrupt their sleep. That had been fun, if only for a little while.

A pack of nantang had come along, attracted by the scent of rotting carrion. She tolerated them, as they tidied up the numerous corpses she left lying in the long grass, so at least the area around the tawtute encampment didn't smell too bad – apart from the stench of the living tawtute, of course. At least the nantang showed her a proper amount of respect, unlike the tawtute. Although she did like the name they gave her, even if it was hard for a Na'vi to say. Na'dia sang out her name, "Ghooouuul."

Still bored. And icky too. Not to mention hungry.

Na'dia had dreams about utu'mauti fruit that were almost orgasmic in intensity – especially when they involved her sisters of the tsumuke'awsiteng.

Her ears pricked. Something was happening. Something different.

Different was good.

An alien was coming out in an AMP suit.

A few ideas on how to kill an AMP suit had been cycling through her head over the last few days. Given that no-one had really seen her, a smart operator would not be looking out the window. Instead, the alien would be watching the AMP suit's sensors, and shooting at what they showed instead of trusting its eyes.

So it was going to be hard to sneak up on one. But she had an idea of how to manage around the sneaking up problem. There were a couple of other troubles as well. The AMP suit was going to be stronger than her, but Na'dia was sure she was faster, so she could manage around that little issue. The other problem was the Big Fucking Gun – if the alien was able to get a clean shot off the result would be a rather large hole in her. The BFG had to go.

This was going to be fun.

Na'dia crouched in wait, hidden in a particular thick clump of razor grass. It was painful, each movement against the grass like a papercut, but it provided her with the best cover against the sensors of the alien machine. She concentrated on thinking that she was an injured predator, helpless before the power of the aliens, lying just past the grass clump. It wasn't too hard to imagine – the cuts from the razor grass stung like crazy.

The heavy thumping steps of the AMP suit came ever closer, hardly masking the whine of the gas turbine powering the metal beast. She could smell the hot metal and oil reeking from the machine. It had to die. Na'dia waited patiently until...she sprang into the air, and every muscle strained to swing her sword, so precisely. Her blow was perfect, the tip of her blade tearing through the ammunition belt feeding the BFG – and even better, it didn't totally sever the belt.

The AMP operator swung around, its finger tightening involuntarily on the trigger, firing it at nothing. Blam! Blam! Blam! And then there was nothing. The twisted and bent links in the belt jammed in the ammo feed, and the BFG fired no more.

Unfortunately for Na'dia, as the AMP suit turned, she was struck hard in the ribs by its elbow, flinging her at least ten metres. Somehow, she managed to retain a grip on her sword as she hit the ground. That hurt!

"It's a Na'vi bitch," shouted the alien, unable to believe its eyes. Na'dia shoulder-sprang to her feet, and drew her other sword, hissing at the alien in its evil metal monster. At least the alien got the bitch part right, even if it was so blind that it did not See she was palulukan, not Na'vi.

She bared her teeth in a vicious snarl at the alien, willing it to die. It would soon enough.

The AMP suit ran at Na'dia, swinging the BFG like a club. It was so slow, she almost laughed, as she parried each blow, deflecting each one just enough so it did not strike her. It then tried to skewer her with the bayonet, driving her back, but then stopped, giving her room to move.

"Nadia Khudoshin," it said. "You were in the Avatar program."

For a moment, Na'dia was stunned by its words. She remembered dimly that her skin had not always been blue, and her swords slipped out of her hands.

The alien continued, "Why don't you come in? You are human, one of us." It slung its gun over its back, and held out a huge metallic hand towards her. "What have they done to you?"

Na'dia took a step towards it, only for the AMP suit to swing a brutal roundhouse punch at her. She ducked under the fist, catching at the limb with both hands. The follow-through ripped her off her feet, and she swung up over the limb, letting go at the peak of her trajectory. Na'dia landed on her feet on top of the canopy. She whipped a small cylinder off her belt, slapped it on the glass canopy, and did a backflip off the AMP suit, landing in front of it.

The alien looked dumbfounded at her agility and grace, and the curious expression on her face. She held up her hand to show the alien the pin from a grenade held between her thumb and forefinger, grinning broadly.

Its eyes crossed as the alien saw an object wrapped in a razor-palm frond, stuck firmly to the glass canopy directly in front of its face. Forgetting in its panic that it was in an AMP suit, the alien tried to push the grenade away using its real hands. But it was too late.

Na'dia dropped to the ground, just before the grenade detonated, blowing a small hole in the glass canopy.

The arms of the AMP suit slumped by its sides as she returned to her feet. Na'dia leapt up onto the canopy and wrenched it open. The alien was still alive, air bubbling through the bloody remains of its face. It looked as though it would be a race between death from shock and blood loss, or asphyxiation from the poisonous atmosphere.

Even treacherous tawtute deserved a clean death, when they had given her this much fun. She drew her knife, and gave it the blow of grace.

To stop the AMP suit from activating its return to base function, she reached down and switched off the ignition, the whine of the gas turbine dying, almost as quickly as the operator.

She didn't have much time. If the tawtute were smart, they would send out a patrol and a couple of AMP suits to recover this one. She leapt off the suit and removed the huge ceramic blade from its scabbard to the left of the canopy, and used it to pry the cover from the ammunition hopper. She pulled the ammo belt from the hopper, and yanked the BFG away from the inert AMP suit, slinging it and the ammo belt over her shoulders. Her final action was to take another grenade, flip open the cover for the fuel filler, and stuff the grenade into the neck, backing off quickly.

Grenades were such useful little toys. It was so nice of the tawtute aliens to carry so many of them for her to play with.

The AMP suit caught fire in a most satisfactory manner, burning fiercely, the plastic from the canopy slumping into a sodden mass. Na'dia retrieved her blades, and carefully sheathed them. There was work to do, and she couldn't hang around here watching the pretty flames burn the metal monster.

She wasn't bored now.

If only the BFG wasn't so fucking heavy.


	35. Chapter 35

Finally she was done. Unjamming the BFG ammo feed had been fiddly work, especially as she didn't have any tools except her knife. Removing the bent links from the ammunition belt had been much easier. She had cycled the action several times to make sure the rounds passed through cleanly, and now she was right to go.

Unlike the sidearms of the aliens, the BFG wasn't fitted with an RF tracking chip. It was supposed to be too much of a BFG for someone to just walk off with it. A little oversight that meant the tawtute couldn't track where she was. They really should have more imagination.

There were still a few hours of daylight left, so she had a little time to have some fun with the BFG. She really didn't fancy using it at night – the aliens would be able to pick up the muzzle flash from miles away. There was no point in making things easy for them, after all. If they wanted Na'dia dead, they would have to work at it.

Na'dia grumbled to herself. The BFG hadn't gotten any lighter while she was unjamming it, but she had decided her course of action while she was carefully clearing the jam. That was why she was on the reverse slope of the rise that she had abandoned to the tawtute. Na'dia wanted it back now.

She propped a large rock under the stock of the BFG so she didn't have to support the whole weight. While she might have been strong, maintaining any accuracy without a support was going to be impossible if she tried to take the weight herself – especially as there were no sights – not even iron sights – on the damn BFG, despite her being in a prone position.

Shutting one eye, she trained the other eye along the length of the barrel, focusing on her target – one of the gun turrets guarding the alien observation post. The butt was tucked into her shoulder, she lifted her knees from the ground, and pulled the trigger. Blam! Blam! Blam! And then she released the trigger.

Fuck, her shoulder hurt, and she couldn't hear a damn thing. One of her shots had impacted square on the turret, a shower of sparks erupting from the horrible weapon, and the barrels were now pointed at the sky. A tawtute head popped up to see what had happened, she shifted aim slightly and she pulled the trigger again. Blam! Blam! Blam!

The alien turned into pink mist, and now she really couldn't hear a damn thing. Her skin prickled as liquid ran down the side of her neck. Na'dia quickly wiped at it. Yes, it was blood – trickling from her abused ears. She should have done something about that before she came up with this fucking brilliant idea.

Abandoning the BFG, she ran lightly up the slope to the alien observation post, only to find it empty. The cursed humans had abandoned it – apart from the lower half of a corpse she had just made. Three soldiers were fleeing down the rise back to the safety of the alien perimeter. Disconsolately, she returned down the rise to retrieve the BFG, and lugged it back up to the top of the rise. However, before she used it to disable the remaining two turrets, she tore off two strips of cloth from the remains of the alien's uniform, moistened the drab green fabric with some of the gore oozing form the half corpse, and rolled them into tight little wads to stick them into her ears. Now she could kill the turrets.

But she didn't stop there.

Na'dia took some pot shots at the three fleeing soldiers, and actually managed to hit one, blowing off his leg. The other two did not turn back for him, leaving the wounded alien screaming in agony – but not for long. Within minutes he was quiet, and stopped moving.

She shifted her aim to the turrets on the perimeter of the alien position, and started firing at them. Accuracy at this range was difficult – disabling each of the five turrets she could see took between twenty to thirty shots each. Although, there was one positive development - her ears had stopped hurting. The improvised ear plugs were working just fine.

Another AMP suit came striding out, firing at her position. Rounds went whizzing over her head, so she returned fire – and an AMP suit was a lot bigger target than she was. Less than a minute afterwards, the AMP suit was slumped to one side, burning merrily. There was a gush of flame and the blowout panels on the ammunition hopper exploded out as the ammo went up, rounds detonating in spectacular fireworks. The AMP suit driver didn't get out. Na'dia imagined she could smell roasting flesh, even from this distance.

There was only about thirty rounds left on her ammunition belt. Na'dia decided that she had had quite enough fun with the BFG – especially after she gingerly felt the massive bruise on her shoulder. The recoil had been brutal, and although it had been great to blow the shit out of stuff with it, Na'dia wasn't going to be playing with a BFG again anytime soon.

It was time to finish this thing. She flitted down towards the alien position, when she was surprised by the roar of a lone Valkyrie shuttle passing overhead. Her suspicions alerted, she started running into the camp. It was empty. The aliens had run away.

Na'dia stamped her foot in disgust at their cowardice, and threw her head back to howl, "Ghooooouuuul!"

They had spoiled her fun, and her lovely day that had started off so well had all turned to shit.

Na'dia looked across the plains, and could see the remaining tawtute cowards about a mile away, running towards the Valkyrie, which had smoothly landed. She drew her swords, and slashed at the tents they had left standing, deflating the alien artifacts like collapsing soufflés. As a temper tantrum it wasn't particularly satisfying, but it was better than doing nothing.

The Valkyrie took off, and flew over the camp. She jumped up and down and waved to attract its attention, and then flipped the bird at the huge spacecraft. The pilot must have seen her, as it waggled its wings a couple of times, before rocketing skywards. At least the pilot had some class, unlike the cowardly tawtute soldiers.

A palulukan's work was never done, so it seemed. She used some more of her grenades to disable the remaining automated turrets. Na'dia couldn't have them shooting up any game, and if the tawtute wanted to complain about having their gear blown up, they would have to take it up with her. So there!

She went through the stuff the aliens had left, until she found a pallet of water bottles. She slit open the plastic wrapping holding the bottles onto the pallet, opened a bottle with a practiced twist and sniffed it. The water smelt funny, and tasted of nothing – not like the sharp, fresh water of a Pandoran forest stream. It would have to do. There weren't any forest streams around here.

Na'dia kept ferreting around the camp, until she found a bar of soap. She sniffed at it suspiciously – it smelt odd, but a hell of a lot better than she did at the moment. Na'dia returned to the pallet of water bottles, and proceeded to pour them over herself, wincing at the stinging from the myriad of thin cuts inflicted by the razor grass.

She had just got up a good lather when she heard the shriek of an ikran. Na'dia looked up, and waved furiously at the three ikran soaring overhead. She knew each of them and their riders by sight – and one of them was carrying two Na'vi, not one.

The ikran landed in a flurry of wings in a clear spot in the middle of the former tawtute position.

Na'dia sang out, "Ninat! Txep'ean!"

She ran towards the four Na'vi, cake of soap still in one hand, and leapt at Ninat, carrying her to the ground and covering her with kisses. Ney'tiri clipped the back of Zhake's head with one hand as he goggled at the display of sudsy female affection, while Ninat laughed and laughed.

Txep'ean coughed gently, interrupting her joyous welcome of his sister. She stood up and pulled Ninat to her feet. Na'dia did not let go of her hand – for some reason she felt very shy.

Txep'ean signed, "I See you, my love." He grinned at her as she blushed deeply, and added, "But what is this white smelly froth all over you? You stink like a tawtute."

The light of battle in her eyes flared, and she signed emphatically, "If you think I smell bad now, you should have smelt me before!"

Na'dia took one threatening step towards Txep'ean, only to be surprised when he grabbed her in both arms and swung her off her feet, spinning her around and around. He whispered in her ear, "I missed you – even if you smell funny." Na'dia giggled – she could not remember ever being this happy before.

Eventually, he set her down, and joined with Ninat in embracing her.

"I hate to break up such a touching scene," interrupted Zhake, "But what the hell happened here? Your message said two Valkyrie shuttles had landed."

Ney'tiri agreed, "It would be interesting to know. We have come a long way to find out."

Ever so reluctantly, the embrace dissolved. Na'dia began signing, while Ninat translated.

"A shuttle landed to pick up the tawtute soldiers, about an hour ago."

Zhake frowned. He stated, "I thought you said two shuttles landed. If they were carrying full loads, there should have been three hundred humans."

"Three hundred and two," agreed Na'dia. She was totally sure of the number, having counted the number of life sources several times. Not that she was keeping score – well, actually, she was.

Zhake looked puzzled, and frowned deeply. There was no way you could get three hundred humans and all their gear into one shuttle, and still get to orbit.

Na'dia misread his expression. She signed shame-facedly, "I'm sorry, Zhake. They ran before I could finish them off. I really tried my best." Na'dia repeated, "I'm sorry, really, really sorry."

Ney'tiri asked, "How many got away?"

Na'dia felt like curling up into a ball and creeping into a corner. "One hundred and nineteen," she signed, using tiny little movements of her fingers. "And two of the four AMP suits." If she hadn't had to search for food, she really could have killed more of them.

"Holy fuck," whispered Zhake.

Na'dia was still misreading his expression. She offered in self-defence, "I did kill the commander, on the first day."

"Un-fucking-believable," murmured Zhake, shaking his head in disbelief.

She was worried that he was going to shout at her. Na'dia liked Zhake, and didn't want to upset him.

Ney'tiri took Na'dia's hand, and said to her gently, "My sister, you have achieved one of the greatest feats of arms of any Na'vi warrior. Not in any of the songs, not since the time of the very first, has any warrior done what you have." She saw the doubt on Na'dia's face, and added, "You may be possessed by the spirit of a palulukan, but no matter what anyone might say – you are Na'vi, and I am proud to be your sister."

Zhake grinned at her, and suggested, "Perhaps you should tell us the story from the beginning."

Na'dia hesitated, before signing, "Could I finish washing first?"

The four Na'vi burst out into rolling laughter.


	36. Chapter 36

"Two battalions of corpsicles," said Zhake, "With all their heavy equipment."

"That is what the commander said," signed Na'dia. The sun had set many hours ago, and she was still being translated by Ninat.

The life-mate of her sister looked serious, and bit his lip. "They must be in cryo, somewhere in orbit. They could have been there for years. I wonder why Selfridge didn't use them after the battle."

Ney'tiri said, "Perhaps he didn't know. Perhaps Qua'ritz was the only one who knew they were there, or the others who did know died in the battle."

They were clustered around a communications console left abandoned by the retreating tawtute.

His mate's suggestion seemed reasonable. Zhake sighed, and checked the message log. He selected one of the last entries, tagged as _ISV Dog Star_, and pressed the send button.

After a minute's wait, a tired looking human face appeared on the screen. "This is the captain of the _ISV Dog Star_. To whom am I talking?"

"Zhake'soolly," replied Zhake. Na'dia noted that he used the Na'vi pronunciation of his own name. "I wish to know your intentions, Captain."

"I'm afraid I am not authorised to tell you, Corporal Sully," answered the Captain. "However, the RDA does have a number of demands, which, if satisfied, will enable a peaceful resolution of any dispute that may exist."

The olo'eyktan of the Omaticaya smiled thinly. "Pray do tell."

"Firstly," said the Captain. "All property of the RDA currently in your possession must be returned to RDA control. Secondly, all military forces of the Na'vi must be disarmed, and finally, a number of criminals surrendered to my custody for transport back to Earth, where they may face justice in a court of their peers."

Zhake's smile became even thinner. "Who are your alleged criminals?"

The Captain advised, "For the crime of rebellion against a duly authorised authority of the United Nations, I have warrants for Doctors Norman Spellman and Maximilian Patel. I also have a warrant in your name, Corporal Sully, but I am sure we can do a deal."

"Go on," said Zhake.

"I have one more arrest warrant," said the Captain. "For the murder of one hundred and seventy-three citizens, I require Doctor Nadia Khudoshin, also known as 'The Ghoul', to be surrendered to my authority immediately."

Na'dia could not stop herself. She bumped Zhake aside from the console with a flick of one well-rounded hip, and howled, "Ghoooouuuul." The Captain flinched away from the camera as her lip curled to display her pointed canines. She laughed at his response, and sang in a low and husky voice, "Come and get me, boys..."

Zhake coughed meaningfully, and Na'dia took the hint. She graciously surrendered the position in front of the console to the olo'eyktan.

"I am afraid, Captain, that I am disinclined to accede to your request," said Zhake smoothly, sounding more like a high-level diplomat than the warrior that he was. "Earth does not have an extradition treaty with the Na'vi. In any case, a state of war exists between our two planets, and the alleged crimes of the accused were honourably occasioned serving in their roles in the armed forces of the Na'vi."

"Armed forces of the Na'vi?" sneered the Captain. "They are nothing other than a pack of savages, squabbling in the mud of this disgusting world."

"As I said before," said Zhake, "A state of war exists between the Na'vi and Earth. As Na'diakhudoshin so eloquently suggested, the only way you will take prisoners is to come and get us, and pay in blood. Zhake'soolly out." He terminated the call.

"Thank you, Zhake," signed Na'dia.

When Ninat translated her words, Zhake looked puzzled. "What for?" he asked.

"I am palulukan and clanless, not Na'vi," she said. "I could be surrendered to the aliens without penalty, for none would care. That action alone could buy you time."

Ney'tiri said fiercely, "You are my sister. I will not allow it." The glow in her eyes challenged her mate to deny her words.

Txep'ean and Ninat each took one of her hands and chorused, "Nor I."

Zhake added with a twisted smile, "I have also heard that a certain palulukan currently residing at Hell's Gate might object to your being handed over. I would not choose to experience her displeasure."

"You already have," signed Na'dia. "My sensei was the one you met on your first day in the forest.. She said for an ignorant tawtute uniltìranyu, you did well to escape her. Very few have."

There was little else he could say other than, "Oh."

"She also said," added Na'dia mischievously, "Any time you want to try running away from her again, she would relish the opportunity of showing just how lucky you were."

Ney'tiri turned on Zhake and prodded him in the chest, "What is this about a palulukan? Why have I not heard this story?"

"Ah, Ney'tiri," said Zhake, taking a step back, his hands raised in the air, "I did not wish to boast of running away from a palulukan."

His mate advanced upon him with battle in her eyes. It was clear the olo'eyktan of the Omaticaya was in serious trouble with his mate. Ninat tugged at her brother's and lover's hands, drawing them quietly away. She knew well how volatile her sister Ney'tiri was, and wanted to give her some privacy in which to fight and have make-up play with her Zhake.

"Come," she whispered, as Ney'tiri's voice rose to almost a screech. "We have much to discuss."

Txep'ean said, "You are wrong, my sister. There are only a few words to be said."

"Are you sure?" asked Ninat.

He nodded.

Ninat smiled a little sadly. "I will leave you, then."

"No!" he said firmly, holding his sister's forearm firmly as she went to turn away. "If we are to do this thing properly, we must start it as we will live it."

Ninat's mouth fell open in surprise. She had not expected this from her brother – he was one of the most traditional of all the young men, and for him to offer this...

"Na'diakhudoshin," he said. "I would Choose you to be my woman – our woman," he corrected. "Would you Choose me to be your man?"

Na'dia had been watching this interchange between her lover and her brother with some nervousness, but now she was not nervous at all. "Yes," she sang, with all her heart behind her voice.

Txep'ean reached for his sister, and for her, and embracing them tightly, kissed them both gently on the forehead. The three stood there for a time, until they broke apart. Then, as one, all three brought their queues together, the pink tendrils fusing them into a single being.

"Oh," gasped Na'dia. She swayed on her feet as she felt the unalloyed love of Txep'ean and Ninat fill her to completion. She had thought tsahaylu with Ninat was wonderful, but this...she almost burst with joy and happiness. Na'dia was whole, as she had not been since...since before the nuke. Txep'ean and Ninat caught her before she could fall, and lowered her gently to the ground, and they lay either side of her.

There was no need for words. Na'dia surrendered to the lips and hands of her lovers, sensation exploding in her brain, only to hear both Ninat and Txep'ean chuckle. "What is it?" she asked, and then gasped. She had spoken – not sang – aloud.

They did not seem surprised that she could talk. Ninat said, "You are greedy for caresses, Na'diakhudoshin. It seems I must make you ready." Her hands quickly removed her clothing, and slid between Na'dia's legs, making her shudder with delight, while Txep'ean claimed her lips and breasts. Somehow, she didn't know how, Na'dia's hands moved to undo Txep'ean's loincloth, and she grasped his swelling manhood.

Her head jerked away from his kiss in surprise. "Eywa!" she exclaimed, her eyes open wider than they had ever been. He was fucking enormous! Txep'ean was going to split her in half!

Ninat laughed evilly. "We told you he was big."

The cause of Ninat's amusement groaned, and said, "If you keep on stroking me like that, Na'dia, with those beautiful hands of yours, I will not be able to control my passion."

Ninat gave her lover a gentle push, and Na'dia found that she was astride Txep'ean's slim waist, looking down at his handsome face, his hands wrapped around her waist. Ninat said cheekily, "I think you need some help, brother." She grasped her brother's manhood and pressed it against Na'dia's cleft, gently working it inside her.

"Grrrr," growled Na'dia. This felt so goooood! She pushed back down, wanting all of him within her. She started panting with lust, tilting her hips back and forward to slowly ease him inside, until she was resting on his groin. Little quivers rippled through her body with every breath she took, until she thought she would die with pleasure. Ninat was behind her, cupping and squeezing her breasts, matching her every shudder with one of her own.

Txep'ean growled back, slid his hands under her thighs, and lifted her up. Na'dia gasped at the sudden sensation of emptiness, and then screamed from the anguish of total pleasure as he filled her again, before she exploded into a thrashing orgasm. At that point, Na'dia went away, to be replaced by a hunger, a wanton desire to do nothing but have her mind drowned in the sensation of joyous sex. It was even better than Uniluke.

And she found out that Na'vi males weren't single shot pistols – they were automatics. As soon as they fired, there was another shot already in the breech – no waiting for reloads. And every time he erupted, she felt the wave of unbearable pleasure inside her brain through the magic of tsahaylu, to be matched by an orgasmic explosion from Ninat. She could no longer tell who was inside who – all three just melted into one single desire.

Eventually, they slowed, and slipped into a deep sleep, limbs entwined, as they shared a common dream of love and belonging.


	37. Chapter 37

When Na'dia awoke, she felt wonderful - even the delicious soreness inside her felt good. As soon as she stirred, Ninat snapped awake too. Txep'ean, on the other hand, appeared to be dead to the world.

The two women quietly got to their feet, not wanting to wake the exhausted male, picked up their clothing and weapons, and wandered off to get something to eat. Na'dia noticed that like herself, Ninat was walking a little bow-legged. She felt for the words she had last night – they were almost there, but she couldn't quite grasp them, so she coughed to her sister and started signing.

"Ninat," she signed. "Did you...?"

Her lover grimaced and nodded. "Yes, I did. I'm not sure how it happened, but it did." She tilted her head to one side, and commented wryly, "It felt pretty damn good, too, even if my knees won't touch this morning."

Na'dia couldn't remember exactly what the Na'vi customs were regarding incest. Cautiously, she signed, "Aren't there customs about brothers and sisters..."

Ninat burst out laughing. "So th-that's what has had you worried all this time," she stuttered. "I've been wondering why you took so long to jump Txep'ean's bones."

"What?" signed Na'dia. Now she was confused.

"Txep'ean and I were raised as siblings, after his parents were drowned when he was a young child – our fathers were brothers, and our mothers were sisters. That is why we are so close." Ninat chuckled again, adding, "I think we are a lot closer now."

A sudden wave of relief passed over Na'dia. She had been concerned enough about her being an outcast, let alone causing Ninat and Txep'ean to break the Na'vi strictures on incest. It was ok for cousins to mate - after all, most people in a clan were related through multiple connections somehow.

"I have to admit it, though," added Ninat. "Txep'ean wields his weapon almost as well as he wields his fighting staff." She sighed. "I still think I prefer women though."

Blam!

The two women's heads swivelled towards the unmistakeable sound of a single shot from a GAU-90 thirty millimetre automatic cannon. Na'dia's swords almost leapt into her hands, only for her to immediately relax at the next sound she heard.

"Holy crap!" swore Zhake's voice. "This piece of shit kicks like a fucking pa'li. How the fuck did she manage to hit anything with it? There aren't even any sights."

It seemed that Zhake had been inspired to repeat Na'dia's efforts with the BFG.

"Ma Zhake, perhaps you should stick with a bow," teased Ney'tiri. "I don't want you to get hurt so you can't perform your duties."

It was clear from her tone of voice that she was not referring to his role as olo'eyktan.

As Ninat and Na'dia rounded a tent, they saw Zhake getting to his feet, rubbing his shoulder, while Ney'tiri stood by looking amused, one hand raised to her mouth as though she was holding in laughter. Na'dia paused to sheathe her blades, the slight ringing of metal alerting the two Na'vi as to their presence.

"Is he still alive?" asked Ney'tiri, after sketching the customary greeting with one hand.

"Txep'ean?" snorted Ninat. "The big lug is sound asleep."

Ney'tiri shrugged. "It sounded like someone was dying an agonising death, very slowly, for most of the night," she said.

"That was Na'dia," said Ninat, making Na'dia blush furiously. "I've never heard anyone scream so much – except for Zhake, and he bellows more than screams. It must be a uniltìranyu thing."

Zhake's face looked distinctly darker. He abruptly changed the topic of the conversation by asking Na'dia, "How is your shoulder? Mine hurts like an absolute bitch."

The flood of feel-good endorphins rushing through her blood vessels had made her forget about the bruising, but when her hand involuntarily touched her shoulder she flinched.

"That much?" commented Zhake. "If you're going to be firing this brute again," he pointed to the GAU-90 lying on the ground, "We'll have to do something about that - and the lack of sights. You're going to need them when the corpsicles land. The ammo weighs too damn much to miss if you have to lug it yourself."

"She won't be carrying the ammunition," announced Ninat. "I will be – otherwise Na'dia will be too slow."

Ney'tiri objected, "But Ninat, you are not a warrior, or even a hunter! You are a singer."

"All the more reason for me to help her," argued Ninat. "We need every warrior who can fight – the clans lost too many at the Tree of Souls."

Zhake had a half-smile on his face. "Ninat – or any Na'vi for that matter – knows more about moving unseen and unheard though the forest than any tawtute warrior. Besides, every sniper needs a spotter."

"Sniper?" signed Na'dia. She had not considered this.

"It takes a special kind of person to be a sniper," said Zhake, "One that can kill at a distance, without mercy – a ruthless killer, one who can detach herself from the killing. Even amongst the tawtute soldiers there are very few. I think most Na'vi warriors are too honourable to kill in this manner, and they will be reluctant to use firearms."

Na'dia snorted. Males were strange and unknowable. There was no honour in killing – just the thrill of the stalk and the bloodrush at the kill. As long as one retained one's head, there would be no problem.

"I suspect one who is possessed by a palulukan would be a most effective sniper," continued Zhake. His eyes had a distant look in them, as though he was remembering lessons from long ago. "Most of the structure of the GAU-90 is there to take rough handling by the AMP suits, so we should be able to lighten it, and if we add a sight and bipod..." He snatched up the heavy weapon, and without another word disappeared back into the tawtute encampment. Ney'tiri sighed. It seemed she had become used to his sudden enthusiasms, and she trailed off after her lifemate.

"Are you sure you wish to do this?" asked Na'dia of Ninat. "There will be much danger." She did not doubt Ninat's courage - how could she? Except for the palulukan, she knew her lover far better than any other person alive.

Ninat took both Na'dia's hands and gazed into her eyes. "I would share your fate," she said softly. "As would my brother Txep'ean."

A lump grew in Na'dia's throat. She had never had anyone look so nakedly into her soul before, totally stripped of all artifice and defences.

"However," added Ninat, her voice stern with disapproval, "I would not have you die of starvation, Na'dia. You have not been eating properly, and your ribs are as visible as the sun in the sky. Let me find food for you. Come."

There was little she could do but obey, not after such a true declaration of love.

Several hours later, they had returned to the tawtute camp, laden with edible roots, fungi and teylu. Clearly, there was a lot to learn about the whole gathering side of the equation from Ninat. Na'dia had not seen any of these things in her foraging on the plains.

Zhake, Ney'tiri and Txep'ean were waiting for them around a fire. It seemed that her other lifemate had also been gathering food, as something that looked like a stingbat was roasting above the fire.

"I See you," grinned Txep'ean, who was looking very pleased with himself. And why shouldn't he, thought Na'dia. He rose up and she moved to hug him, burying her face in his broad chest, and breathing deeply. Eywa, he smelt so damned good. It was with extreme reluctance that she disengaged from his embrace.

Ninat growled, "What are you doing to that poor thing, brother? It will end up like a piece of talioang leather. You know that none of you can cook." She shooed the Na'vi away from the fire, and took charge.

Once they were a safe distance away from the fire, Ney'tiri said, "Ninat is right, Txep'ean. You could burn water."

His face and neck coloured with embarrassment, as he said defensively, "She never let me learn when I was a child. Ninat always monopolised our sa'nok. She is very bossy." He turned to Na'dia for support, asking, "Isn't that so?"

She nodded, but added in sign, "The pot is calling the kettle black."

Ney'tiri looked puzzled for a moment, her lips moving as she laboriously translated sign into speech, and then barked with laughter. "That is very funny, Na'dia, and so true. Is that a tawtute saying? I haven't heard that one from Zhake."

Na'dia made a sign of assent.

"What saying?" demanded Zhake.

Txep'ean grinned. It seemed that the barb Na'dia had sunk in had no effect on his ego. "You will have to learn sign too, my olo'eyktan, if you wish to hear what Na'dia is thinking."

How she wished she could speak again. The brief window she had in tsahaylu had not been enough for Na'dia, for she had so much to say that she could not in sign.

"Hmm, it would be useful in a tactical situation," mused the warrior leader of the Omaticaya. "Even the softest whisper can be overhead. I should see about training the warriors in sign." Zhake shook himself out of his reverie to say brightly, "I have a present for you, Na'dia."

From under a groundsheet he produced what had been her BFG – a much cut-down GAU-90.

"I was lucky that the tawtute brought down a complete field armourer's workshop, so the tools were all here," said Zhake. "The brush-cutting attachment came off easily enough, but the other mods were a little harder. The handgrip and trigger guard were tricky to bring down to a size suitable for a Na'vi hand, and changing the springing on the trigger was an absolute bitch – I've adjusted it down to a two kilo pull down from over twenty, so you won't jerk the weapon around when you shoot it now. I removed the sighting package for the AMP suit, and substituted a sight from a GS-221 LMG. It required a little reprogramming, but you should find it reasonably accurate out to about fifteen hundred metres or so. The carry handle had to go too – it was just dead weight as far as you were concerned. You'll just have to be careful carrying it after it's been fired – this thing gets hot damn quick. Finally, I fabricated a bipod and a padded rest for the butt, so it should be more comfortable to use – if you can ever call this brute comfortable. All up, I managed lose just under thirty-one kilos from the bitch."

Na'dia raised an eyebrow and held out both her hands. Zhake grinned and tossed the weapon to her – it fell into her hands with a satisfying sound of metal slapping into flesh. It was still a BFG – damn heavy and unwieldy, but now she thought she could use it as a proper weapon.

"The recoil is going to be worse, Na'dia," said Zhake. "You're going to need that padding."

She nodded. His words made sense. But there was only one test for a weapon like this.

For a field mod, the bipod looked damn good, and it swung down and locked without a noise. She dropped to the ground, wriggling into a comfortable position, and took aim on one of the destroyed turrets on her rise. The sighting system was good – it showed wind direction, projectile drop, range, everything a girl could want.

She held out a hand without removing her eye from the scope. Zhake, bless his bloodthirsty little soul, knew exactly what she wanted. He slipped a single round into her hand. Na'dia opened the bolt, slid the round in and closed it. She was right to go. Remembering to pull her knees off the ground, she slowly breathed out, and gently but firmly squeezed the trigger.

Blam!

Shit! She had forgotten about the ear plugs, and the recoil – despite the padding on the butt –was still a killer. But she got the payoff. The thirty-mill round – HE, not AP or tracer – hit the turret dead centre and exploded, blowing a great hole deep into its interior workings.

Zhake had seen her flinch at the noise of the shot. He commented drily, "Earplugs, huh? We can do something about that too." He added, "You won't want to use tracer on a sniper job either. No point in making it easy for the op-force to localise your position."

"It is very loud," said Txep'ean. "Why are all tawtute weapons so noisy?"

"You are very noisy when using your weapon, Zhake," teased Ney'tiri. "I seems that tawtute like to make a big fuss about small things."

Zhake and Na'dia's faces' both ran hot.


	38. Chapter 38

"Where are we going?" asked Ninat, mounting a female pa'li that Na'dia had cut out of a herd earlier in the morning.

"Hell's Gate," answered Na'dia, before she tightened a strap on the pannier that Txep'ean had made for her pa'li. She slid the BFG into the holster, and the irritating animal tried to stand on her foot, just to share his lack of approval regarding being used as a beast of burden. "Txep'ean will meet us there in a week, while Zhake and Ney'tiri gather the clans." The three ikrans and their riders had left at sunrise – Txep'ean extremely reluctantly.

"Are we going to have enough time?"

"Zhake said that the tawtute will take a while to replan their strategy, so we have a little time up our sleeve," signed Na'dia.

"You have to stop using these tawtute expressions, Na'dia," said Ninat. "I have no idea what a sleeve is, or how one can store time in one."

Na'dia sketched out an elaborate but insincere apology in sign – including a deep bow of contrition. Ninat laughed merrily at her antics, all the while thinking that she really had made the right choice of lifemate, no matter how strange a path it was leading her on.

There were two boxes of ammunition to carry – just in case, Zhake said. She slung another set of panniers across the back of her pa'li, thinking that if he had teeth, he would definitely be trying to bite her by now. The rotten beast was insane enough by now not to care whether it lived or died. She linked with her steed in tsahaylu, and smoothly mounted it, as though she had been doing this all her life.

The journey back across the plains was uneventful, although Na'dia was not feeling entirely well. She felt listless, and her bones hurt, and she wondered if she had come down with some version of Pandoran flu. It wasn't that she felt sick, it was just...perhaps it was a reaction from living on near-starvation rations for a couple of weeks, although she was eating much better now. The only thing that made her feel more like herself was sex with Ninat.

By the time they re-entered the forest Na'dia was feeling much better, and she never mentioned how she had been feeling to Ninat – it had not seemed serious enough to bother about. It did not strike her that it had been almost a month since she had participated in Uniluke.


	39. Chapter 39

The pa'li stallion lashed out at Ninat.

"Hey!" she yelled, angrily, nimbly avoiding the vicious kick. She had never seen a pa'li act like this one. They were renowned by all Na'vi as being the most gentle of creatures – but this one! It was more like an 'angitsa, a hammerhead fighting for domination of its herd, than anything else. You had to watch it all the time, whether or not Na'dia was linked to it. She complained to Na'dia, saying, "What did you do to this poor creature?"

"Send it insane," was her abrupt reply, after she had snarled at it. It had settled down immediately, but you could see it watching out of the corner of all four eyes for the next opportunity to strike without warning. However, this was not enough explanation for Ninat.

"Look," Na'dia signed. "Imagine you are a poor, innocent pa'li stallion, minding your own business and dreaming of the next time you are going to roger that pretty little mare, when this palulukan pretending to be a Na'vi drops onto your back and mind-fucks you."

"Ah," replied Ninat. That response seemed reasonable enough, when a countervailing thought struck her. "Why don't I feel you like that in tsahaylu?"

They were deep within the forest, settling down for the night. Ninat would have guessed that they were at the edge of the Omaticaya hunting grounds, although she had not been to this exact part of the forest before.

Na'dia smiled at her lover. "That's because you want me to do that to you," she signed.

"Do what?" teased Ninat.

"Fuck you," signed Na'dia vulgarly, as she sidled up to her lover. She knew an invitation when she heard one. Na'dia pounced upon her and wrestled the not unwilling Ninat to the ground. Without effort, their queues linked while Ninat was melting into her lover in a passionate kiss. Na'dia shuddered as she felt her lover's being mesh with hers.

Ninat felt the savagery of Na'dia's soul, just like the first time they had joined. It didn't frighten her – it just made her heart race with excitement. The thought of being helpless before her predatory lover made her so wet, so hot, that she almost wanted to scream. Hardly knowing what she was doing, she whispered to Na'dia, "I want you to bind me."

Na'dia started at the unexpected words. It seemed that Ninat was seriously kinky – who would have thought that the clan of the Omaticaya hosted a full-fledged submissive lesbian? She had thought only 'civilised' societies would aspire to that level of decadence. Although, she thought, the prospect of tying up her lover so she couldn't resist was seriously sexy. And with the benefits of tsahaylu, there was no need for safety words or controls. She would know immediately if Ninat was uncomfortable or unhappy.

She was just about to ask if Ninat was sure, when Na'dia's whole body stiffened. Cautiously, she sniffed.

"What's wrong, my love?" asked Ninat.

Na'dia unlinked, rose to her feet and held out one hand to signal her to be quiet, and be still. There was no noise, but...there it was, a faint smell of death. "Come," she signed. Not waiting for her lover, she donned her blades, and ran into the forest, following the faint trace of corruption in the air.

Ninat knew better than to question her lover. Something was troubling her, deeply, so she followed in her wake. About two kilometres from her camp, she came across her lover standing in an open space. It was obvious what had happened here – a large herd of talioang had stampeded through this part of the forest, smashing the undergrowth flat, leaving a trail that was fifty metres wide, almost like one of the tawtute's great machines that destroyed the forest.

The direction of the stampede was as obvious as the crescent of Polyphemus in the sky, thought Ninat. Curiously, Na'dia was crouching on the ground, sniffing at the ground. When Ninat came closer, she saw the unmistakeable sign of a Na'vi footprint – the footprint of an adult male. Before she could ask a question, Na'dia was off and running along the trail. There was no option but to follow her.

The smell was unmistakeable now. The scent of rotting flesh was putrid, grabbing Na'dia by the throat, but she had to continue. Abruptly the trail finished. She stopped at the edge of the cliff and looked over. What looked like over a hundred talioang carcasses were lying at the bottom of the cliff. Forest banshees, stingbats and nantang packs were squabbling over the carcasses, but there were far too many for the masses of carrion eaters to make an impression.

Na'dia threw her head back and howled – a long chilling call that sent shivers down Ninat's spine. She had heard similar calls far off in the forest, warning that a palulukan was declaring ownership of her range. The stingbats and banshees took to the air, and the nantang packs ran off, yipping and howling as they went.

Once they were clear, Na'dia climbed down the cliff, flowing down it more like water flowing down the rock face than a real animal. Ninat could not follow her – the stench was too foul. How her lover managed to bear it she did not know, and so she retreated back along the trail that led here, until she could breathe the air without gagging.

Half an hour later, Na'dia returned, her face grim. She was carrying a broken arrow shaft – the feathers bore the colours used by the Omaticaya.

"What happened here?" asked Ninat, although she already knew the answer.

"Six days ago," signed Na'dia, "Twelve Omaticaya drove this herd over the cliff. They skinned them, and left the carcasses to rot. Over a hundred beasts lay dead."

"But that is against all clan custom," objected Ninat. She could hardly conceive that anyone she knew could have done such a thing. "This is against all the teachings of Eywa. They must face the justice of the clan." She could conceive that tawtute had done such a thing – but Na'vi?

"No," signed Na'dia. Her face was cold and chilly. "It is worse than that. They have offended the limits of the palulukan, and so must face me."


	40. Chapter 40

Ninat was afraid.

She had never feared her lover before, but now Na'dia seemed nothing like one of the People. She was more like one of the shining metal blades of the tawtute – cold and hard, with razor sharp edges that would wound deeply if one merely brushed against her.

They had been riding toward the encampment of the Omaticaya since before dawn. Na'dia had told her nothing other than she would need Ninat to come with her, to speak her words to her clan. When Ninat had asked if that would be danger, Na'dia had made no sign, merely looking at her with an unblinking gaze. That was when Ninat began to fear her lover.

Ninat was right. Na'dia was cold – she was frozen inside, frozen with the knowledge of what she had to do. It was tearing her apart, that she would have to inflict the will of the palulukan on the Omaticaya. The only thing she could do to remain sane was to return to the way that she had been, devoid of feeling – they way she had been before she had come to Pandora as a damaged human. These were the people that Ninat and Txep'ean belonged to – the clan of her tsumuke'awsiteng, the clan that could have so nearly have been hers.

The petite woman slid off her pa'li, gesturing to Ninat that she should do the same. Quickly.

It was just as well that Ninat dismounted with alacrity. A huge, sinuous black shape flowed out of the jungle. Her pa'li did not hesitate for a moment, launching itself into the forest. Involuntarily, Ninat chose the opposite response. She froze solid in place, terrified at the sight of Pandora's apex predator. Strangely, Na'dia's pa'li ignored the appearance of the beast, wandering over to a stand of flowering plants to feed. But then it was mad.

The palulukan ignored both the pa'li and Ninat. It stopped in front of Na'dia, who leant against its shoulder and linked with it in tsahaylu.

"_Self heard distress of Na'dia. Very noisy."_

Na'dia dumped a précis of the events of the last few days to the mind of her sensei, along with the acknowledgement of what she must do.

"_Difficult. Cubs always get into trouble."_

The implication, of course, was that Na'dia was nothing more than a cub – which, by the measure of the palulukan, was entirely correct. The beast turned its head towards Ninat, looking at her with interest. Ninat had not moved a muscle.

"_Two legs is mate of Na'dia. One of two. Greedy to want more than one."_

The tone of the palulukan's thoughts was amused, as she most often was – particularly when Na'dia riposted with the reason that the palulukan had chosen her mate. The palulukan coughed its curious laugh, and gave Na'dia an affectionate mental caress.

Na'dia gestured for Ninat to come closer, which she did ever so reluctantly, until she was standing directly in front of the palulukan. It sniffed her, and then dragged its rough tongue along the length of Ninat's body, leaving her shivering with fright as its warm breath washed over her skin. Despite her conscious knowledge that this beast was the sensei of her lover, she could not overcome the countless generations of fear and loathing of the Na'vi for palulukan.

"_Two legs tastes good. Very good. Self understands now why Na'dia chose this mate."_

She conveyed with annoyance to her sensei that there were more reasons than taste to choose a mate, making the palulukan laugh again. Although her sensei was correct – Ninat was very tasty, especially...a series of lascivious thoughts flashed through her brain, remembering the taste that was not quite like honey, only...better.

"_Two legs will accompany self and Na'dia to Omaticaya. Will need translator."_

It seemed that the decision on what was to be done had already been made.

The curious procession entered the Omaticaya camp unnoticed – at least until it advanced into the central gathering space. It was led by the palulukan, linked with Na'dia in tsahaylu walking by her side, followed by a nervous Ninat, with a prancing pa'li stallion bringing up the rear.

A woman screamed with terror when she saw the palulukan. The rest of the clan were shocked into silence. Ninat and the palulukan looked as though they owned this place, thought Ninat. Which, by their lights, she supposed they did.

In a penetrating voice Mo'at called out, "What is the meaning of this?"

Na'dia broke her bond to the palulukan, stepped forward and presented the broken arrow shaft to the Tsahik of the Omaticaya, holding it out before her. Mo'at gazed at the piece of wood as though it was a venomous snake, before her hand slowly reached forth to take it from the woman who was neither Na'vi, tawtute, nor palulukan.

The palulukan nudged Ninat, pushing her forward. It was clear what she was expected to translate Na'dia's words.

"One day's pa'li ride from here lay the rotting carcasses of an entire talioang herd, driven over a cliff by twelve Omaticaya," translated Ninat. "Their skins were taken and the bodies left as carrion for the nantang to scavenge. Only the Na'vi would do this."

"Is this true?" demanded Mo'at, glaring at the small woman before her, ignoring Ninat's presence totally.

Na'dia tilted her head and half smiled at the Tsahik. Her fingers flicked briefly, and Ninat translated, "Why should I lie?"

"Revenge," snarled Mo'at.

Her answer was a peal of laughter. "I do not hate the Omaticaya. They have given me a great gift, the gift of love." Na'dia's fingers entwined briefly with those of Ninat. "There is no reason for revenge." As much as Ninat glowed from the public declaration of Na'dia's love, she feared the reaction of the clan. Would they expel her as they had expelled her lover?

A hunter stepped forward to speak. "It is true, Tsahik," announced Wokan. "I was one of the twelve that did this thing." He looked as though he was about to place his head on the executioner's block, and there was hissing from many sections of the tribe.

"Wokan, you have broken the limits placed by the palulukan that have existed since the time of the first songs," signed Na'dia. "Why?"

He smiled sadly, answering, "The Omaticaya lost much in the fall of Hometree through the actions of the tawtute. Not just lives, but tools, clothing, weapons, all made through many generations - all of these things were lost – all the things that the clan needs to survive and prosper. The need of the Omaticaya for the hides and bones of the talioang to replace these things has not disappeared, despite the victory of the People over the tawtute. We thought..." Wokan paused, before continuing, "We thought that Eywa would understand our need and our sacrifice, and grant us leave to do this terrible thing, if only once."

Na'dia did not make an answer, not right away. This was more complex than the rules of the palulukan allowed for – they had never anticipated the coming of the tawtute. Na'dia glanced at her sensei, but she gave no suggestion as to what should be done. She thought furiously, until she began to slowly sign, "For such an action, the limits of the palulukan demand the blood of the Omaticaya - not just those who performed the deed, but all those who benefited."

There were a number of angry cries from the gathered clanspeople, and Na'dia quickly moved on to her next words. "These are not normal times. The tawtute came, and broke the peace of Eywa, upsetting all things, even the limits of the palulukan." She breathed in deep, and hoped she was about to do the right thing. "They are returning, in strength, greater than that they had before. To exact the price that the limits demand will weaken the response of Eywa to their evil. But still, a price must be paid for breaching the limits."

She turned towards Wokan to sign, "The price must be in paid in blood, for that is the only payment that the palulukan will accept. Wokan, you must give Ralu and Tanhi to the palulukan..."

"NO!" screamed Ilyana, running forward, her knife drawn. She leapt at Na'dia, who swayed to avoid the deadly thrust, and struck her ungently three times, leaving her gasping on the packed earthen ground of the gathering place. The Omaticaya were left in no doubt of her skill as a warrior.

"As I was about to say, before I was interrupted," signed Na'dia, with her foot in the middle of Ilyana's back, holding her on the ground, "Ralu and Tanhi will be taken and taught the way of the palulukan, so that the Omaticaya may better understand both the place of the Na'vi and the place of the palulukan in this world."

The palulukan barked in surprise, making everyone jump. She had not expected this outcome from her impudent two-legs cubling – nor, as she suspected, to be volunteered to teach two Na'vi cubs. It served her right, she supposed, for getting entangled in the lives of the two-legs – both the Na'vi and the tawtute. Still, it was a good outcome – preserving the form of the limits, while considering the threat that the world faced. She was not a stupid young one, to insist that the rules be followed to the letter – not that young ones would understand what letters were. But they would - oh yes, they would.

There was a gasp from the gathered Omaticaya when the palulukan made signs like those that Na'dia made, and Ninat translated, "The palulukan will accept this price."

Na'dia released Ilyana, and offered a hand to help her up. "I'm sorry," said Ilyana through bloodied lips, once she returned to her feet. "I should have trusted you. But I will miss my children."

Ninat glanced in surprise at the signs that Na'dia made, but translated them none the less. "There is no reason why you should not accompany your children," she translated, glancing at the Tsahik as she spoke the words.

Mo'at said reluctantly, "You have grown, Na'diakhudoshin. Perhaps I was wrong."

For the Tsahik of the Omaticaya, this was a major concession. Na'dia acknowledged her words, and replied, "Perhaps you were." She saw Mo'at's eyes flash with anger, and then she grinned unapologetically. It was time she got some of her own medicine. Na'dia was gratified to see the Tsahik's features soften into a matching smile.

The palulukan was surprised again when Na'dia placed Ralu and Tanhi on her back, but there was no way she was going to put them on her psycho pa'li. He would throw them off and trample them into the mud, the first time she took her eyes off him. At least the palulukan would not do that – although she was sure that the two children would feel like they would rather be crushed under her brutal paws than experience another of the lessons they were about to receive.

As the unusual party was about to leave, Peyral approached Na'dia.

"You were one of the twelve," signed Na'dia. The knowledge that Peyral's scent was one of those she detected at the killing ground had been like a blade to her gut for over a day. "Why did you not step forth like Wokan?"

"I was ashamed, and afraid," replied Peyral. "I know the songs of the palulukan – the songs that are not sung. I knew what they demanded, and I feared to pay the price."

The answer was simple. "You are my sister," signed Na'dia. "I would take my own life rather than hurt you."

There was only one answer that Peyral could say. "You truly are one of the People, Na'dia. Those who cannot See it are blinder than the tawtute."

"Or stubborner than an 'angitsa trying to knock down a hometree," replied Na'dia, her eyes sliding across to the Tsahik, making her sister bark with laughter.


	41. Chapter 41

In the half-year or so since the RDA had been forced to leave Pandora, Max Patel had become used to seeing odd things around Hell's Gate – things that he had never expected to see.

However, Max could never have predicted what he now observed entering the front gate late one afternoon – a procession led by a pa'li stallion carrying a former Avatar in full Na'vi tribal dress, weighed down with what seemed like half a human expeditionary force's armoury, followed by a palulukan carrying two young Na'vi children on its back, and at the rear a Na'vi hunter on foot, accompanied by two females, gaily chattering.

They were greeted by three palulukan cubs bounding towards them, followed distantly by a shouting member of the human maintenance staff on his fourteenth straight day of palulukan baby-sitting duty – Max had heard via the rumour mill that he had hit a rough patch in the nightly poker tournament. Fortunately, they had managed to persuade the palulukan to accept the fitting of tracking collars to the cubs, so at least the poor bastard doing the baby-sitting had some idea of where the buggers were.

The funny thing was that the palulukan's mate had finally become interested in humans, and now was an active player in the poker game – which had necessitated replacing the normal pasteboard deck with a pack made from woven carbon fibre, just to stand up to the harsh treatment of his claws, especially after a lengthy and very heated discussion regarding marking of cards.

Max had declined an invitation to play, especially after he had seen the palulukan's mate clean up a couple of players who did not have iron grips on their emotions – and thus were an open book to the beast. Strangely enough, the huge beast was not at the top of the winnings table, but only third – second was one of the aircraft mechanics, a grizzled old former air force sergeant, and first place was the youngest member of the scientific staff, a very pretty twenty-four year old zoologist and Avatar driver. It was rumoured by many that the zoologist had funded her education by working as a dealer in an illegal San Angeles casino from the age of fifteen.

Interestingly enough, as an outcome of the poker games, the sergeant and the zoologist were also working on documenting palulukan sign language, as expressed through movement of their quills and jaw flaps. The sergeant, who had the appearance of someone who had been left out in the Sahara desert for a couple of centuries, had mentioned to Max that once you got a handle on his palulukan's telltales, it wasn't that hard to read him – or rather it had been up until a month ago, before he finally nailed the concept of bluffing.

Someone walking into the Avatar longhouse during one of the games would have thought they had walked into a bar scene in a late twentieth century science fiction vid feature, seeing a huge black predator, a ten-foot tall blue alien and a couple of humans wearing exopacks, playing Texas Hold'em in deadly silence, the tension so palpable in the poisonous atmosphere that you could almost cut it with a knife.

Max arrived at the longhouse at the same time as the procession, to be greeted by Na'dia's carefree laughter. It seemed that the sign some unknown person had erected above the door had tickled her fancy – it depicted a strange figure, a thanator's head and neck on a Na'vi body, raising a pint of beer to its lips, the sign proudly designating the longhouse as 'The Laughing Palulukan'.

Na'dia was still shaking her head as she unloaded the BFG and ammo from her pa'li. She slapped the mad beast on the rump, skipped away to avoid the expected kick at her face, and caught sight of Max. She waved cheerfully at him, and waited patiently for the puffing rotund little scientist to come jogging up.

"Hi, Max," she signed.

One advantage of sign, reflected Max, is that you could communicate even while you were gasping for breath. He really had to do something about his fitness – but he was about the only person on base who could gain weight on the gloop that they had to eat, at least until they managed to crack the problem of removing the toxins from Pandoran fruit and veg.

"No 'I See you'?" he signed back. "I thought that was compulsory for all Na'vi."

"It gets a bit old," she responded, every flick of her fingers laden with irony. "I See you, yeah, of course I See you. I've got eyes, haven't I? Or more to the point, I've got my palulukan sense, so I can See right into you."

"Talking about palulukans," he said aloud, "Where is she?"

Na'dia grinned down at Max. "Inside. She wanted to check her e-mail before doing anything else."

The palulukan was addicted to the web almost as much as a human teenager. Who would have thought it? Max commented, "You look well – or more to the point, happy."

"I am," signed Na'dia. "Very." She reached out to snag one of the Na'vi women by the arm before she went inside the longhouse. "Max, this is Ninat, my life mate."

"I See you, Max," said Ninat, and wondered why both the small tawtute male and her lover started to laugh. "Na'dia has spoken to me often of your kindness."

Max gave her the traditional gesture of greeting, musing what the reaction of the Omaticaya had been towards same-sex relationships. Hell, on much of the surface of the Earth they were still viewed with hatred and suspicion. He almost asked Na'dia what that reaction had been when an ikran shrieked above them as it landed on the roof of the longhouse, its flapping winds stirring the air.

Na'dia looked even happier – if that was possible - as a muscular Na'vi warrior dismounted from the ikran, and leapt off the longhouse roof, landing nimbly beside her. She flung her arms around the male and kissed him passionately. Max looked nervously at Ninat, wondering what the reaction of a jealous Na'vi would be to such blatant behaviour, but Ninat just grinned.

When the embrace finally broke, Na'dia turned to Max and signed, "This is my life-mate Txep'ean, brother of Ninat." The mischievous gleam in her eye dared Max to say anything as she entwined the five fingers of her left hand around the four fingers of his right. The male – Txep'ean was his name, or 'Blue Fire', as best as Max could translate it – didn't look like letting go any time soon.

As the gobsmacked scientist returned the greeting of the Na'vi male, his brain was ticking over, trying to work out how many Earth laws Na'dia was theoretically breaking – if she was still human, of course. Or even what the position of the Omaticaya was on what she had done to their marriage customs. If there was one thing for sure, Na'dia didn't care who she pissed off, or what rules she broke - but he had known this right from the first time he had met her, all those months ago.

"I would be honoured to hear the story of how such a prickly bitch managed to make two respectable Na'vi fall in love with her," said Max, gratified by his friend's grin. The two Na'vi looked puzzled at his words – the English was a little beyond them – but they didn't look too worried as they felt their mate's pleasure at seeing her small round tawtute friend.

The story ran well into the night, interrupted only by the tapping of the palulukan's claws on the keyboard, the scratching of an ikran's talons on the roof, and the clicking of betting chips on the table in the apparently never-ending poker game in the house of the laughing palulukan.

Na'dia woke just before false dawn. The body-heat of her two lovers in the still air of the longhouse had made her hot and uncomfortable. She lay there restlessly trying not to toss and turn and awaken them, so after a time she eased to her feet and crept out of the longhouse. At least with the palulukan in residence, there was no need for the grill door to protect the sleeping occupants of the longhouse. No sane predator would enter the nesting place of a palulukan.

There was a grassy patch outside the building, so she lay down on it and gazed up into the sky, watching with awe the huge crescent of the gas giant Polyphemus, accompanied by at least five of its moons. It was an incredible sight, one which in the depths of her despair she had never believed she would see. Yet here she was – no longer human, but a whole complete person. She thought she would almost burst with joy.

And so she rose to her feet and started to dance – not with her blades in the measures of taekkyon, but in the pure forms of ballet.

The sky in the east was glowing with the promise of fire as she began to tire, when a shooting pain her abdomen doubled her over in agony. Na'dia fell to her knees, moaning softly and clutching her belly. Something was wrong, very wrong.

Txep'ean was the first to miss Na'dia's presence. Unlike his sister, he was a light sleeper, and snapped awake when he heard something. He instantly knew Na'dia was not there. He rose to his feet and stretched, cracking his muscles. While it was unlikely that anything would happen to his extremely competent lover, there would be no harm in checking.

Everything seemed to be normal – if you could call sleeping in the den with two adult palulukan and their cubs normal. Even Wokan, Ilyana and their two children had seemed to accept the strangeness of the situation. He shook his head in amazement at the changes his life-mate had wrought in his life.

It was not until he walked to the open doorway that he saw the unconscious body of his lifemate – and the grass she was lying on was not green, but stained with something of a much darker hue.


	42. Chapter 42

Na'dia woke slowly. Her eyes watered against the brilliant white light of the room, when she breathed in to smell the familiar harsh scents of a hospital. Despair washed over her – it must have all been a dream, and she was back where she belonged. But it had all been so real.

A voice called out, "She's coming around."

A kind male face wearing a plastic face mask was looking down at her. She must be in some kind of sterile environment in a different hospital. Perhaps her skin grafts had been rejected again, and she was fighting off infection, and they were trying a new treatment. That had happened so many times. It meant that she would soon be going back under the knife again.

There was one difference, however. She didn't hurt – except for a dull ache in her gut. Whatever painkilling drugs she was on were working, unlike what they usually tried. She had had so many over the years that her body was immune to just about everything – perhaps there was something new they were trying. She didn't realise that she had heard those spoken words, her mood was so bleak.

"Kä neto. Oe neu ne terkup," she whispered, not thinking the words strange. She really did want the doctors to go away and let her die, especially since she was not living in that wonderful yet terrifying dream. She shut her eyes and rolled on to her side, curling into a foetal ball with hot tears running down her face.

A cool hand was placed on her shoulder and shook her gently. "Those are not the words of a warrior of the People," said a kind female voice, in a language that was not human.

It couldn't be real. She opened her eyes to see the alien face of Mo'at smiling down at her. Na'dia's heart tried to leap in her chest, and a weak smile crept over her face. It wasn't a dream – Pandora was real. But why did she feel so distraught and sad?

"Sit up," ordered Mo'at, helping her up, and passing her a wooden bowl of steaming liquid. "Drink this."

What was wrong with her? She sipped cautiously at the bowl, trying to not tangle her IV line with the monitoring cables, and looked curiously about her. She was in the decanting room at Hell's Gate. Two of the medical staff were hovering about her, and constantly checking their high-tech instruments, while Mo'at gazed at her with a concerned expression.

"Why am I here?" she asked, slowly realising that she was speaking, not signing. "What is wrong with me?"

The Tsahik of the Omaticaya said, "You have been ill, Na'dia – very ill. The tawtute dok-tors here have little knowledge of your sickness, so Txep'ean brought me to this place." She smiled ruefully, as though she had been given little choice in the matter, and knowing Txep'ean, that was probably exactly what had happened.

There was something that the Tsahik wasn't telling her. "What..." asked Na'dia, realising that somehow she was talking. How was she doing this?

Mo'at took the empty bowl from her, and said gently, "You have lost a child."

Tears sprang into Na'dia's eyes. "I was pregnant?" she asked, her voice shaking. She had not realised, but it explained why she had been feeling unsettled. Na'dia had been worried that she would never be able to bear a child, due to her mix of Na'vi and human DNA. She had been too afraid to ask Max whether it was possible, but it appeared now that it was.

The Tsahik nodded, and took both of Na'dia's hands between her own. "It was very early," said Mo'at. "You are really too young to bear a child to term, as you are only newly come to womanhood."

"Uniluke," murmured Na'dia, tears trickling down her face. "I did not perform Uniluke."

Mo'at nodded. "It is not that strange, given that you were not born to our ways, and were separated from your sisters," she said. "It was not your fault. If there is any blame, it would be mine." The Tsahik took a cloth from one of the humans and dried Na'dia's eyes. "Although there is no need to worry. No damage was done, and there is no reason for you not to bear children in a year or so. Perhaps even six months, although I would not advise it so soon."

A wave of tiredness swept over Na'dia, not really comprehending what she had been told, except that she had been carrying a child - Txep'ean's child, and hers. She lay back on the bed and whispered, "Could I see my life-mates?"

There was some whispering between the human doctors and Mo'at, which the Tsahik seemed to be winning. One of the doctors – Macdonald was the name stencilled on his scrubs – said kindly, "I don't see any reason why not – at least for a little while."

He went out the airlock door, and returned less than a minute later, with two very worried-looking Na'vi in tow. Suddenly, the decanting room seemed full to overflowing with very tall blue people, the humans withdrawing to one side.

"I'm sorry," said Na'dia, her heart leaping into her mouth.

"Shhh," said Ninat, bending over to kiss her on the forehead. "I should have been looking after you better."

"And I shouldn't have been so insistent on mating with you," said Txep'ean, taking her hand. "I could have waited."

Na'dia said, "I couldn't." It was true. She had been longing for Txep'ean's touch for months.

"My love," said Ninat. "You are speaking – in the language of the People – without being in tsahaylu, and your words sound like those of a born Omaticaya."

At Stanford, her tutor in Na'vi had commented unfavourably on her strong Ukrainian accent. She had striven to eradicate it, but learning an alien language without the benefit of being able to hear herself talk had made it just a little bit difficult to speak it as one of the People would. Na'dia thought back to the last time she had shared tsahaylu with both her lovers, and had briefly spoken. Perhaps her mind was so plastic from the manipulations of the palulukan that she could learn new skills – or rather forgotten ones – just from linking with her lovers. She felt for the same words in English, or in her native Ukrainian, and they were still not there – only songs were in the space that her human words should be.

"That is enough, Ninat, Txep'ean. Time for you to leave," ordered Mo'at.

Ninat opened her mouth to protest, and then thought better of it, her mouth clamping shut. Her brother, on the other hand, not being as sensitive to the unspoken messages on the Tsahik's face, asked bluntly, "When may our Na'dia rejoin us?"

Mo'at glared at the male. "A week, perhaps two," she conceded. "It will depend. The dok-tors here will care for her adequately, if you bring her good food to eat. She is too thin, and has not been eating enough to stay healthy. I will tell you what foods she needs to eat. And yes, I know she is swok txe'lan. Now go!"

The Tsahik swept them out of the decanting room, following them and firmly shutting the door behind her. Once she had left, Macdonald said to Na'dia in an amused voice, "Mo'at reminds me of my first registrar, except scarier. She knew exactly what to do, and had us under total control – I'm afraid our experience with Na'vi medicine did not extend to handling miscarriages."

Na'dia was very tired, still she managed to answer, "I know. She is very kind, despite her bad temper."

The other doctor added, "You were very lucky, Na'dia. We almost lost you. If it hadn't been for Mo'at's abortifacient herbs..."

Macdonald glared at the other doctor. "I don't think she needs to hear about that," he snapped. "Na'dia just needs to rest. The IV can stay in for the next couple of days, until her blood volume comes back up."

There was one thing that she had to know. "How long was I..."

"Four days," said Macdonald curtly, implying that she should rest, or bad things would happen to her.

Na'dia returned to a horizontal position, despite her natural tendency to ignore the threats of the medical profession. She really didn't want to stay here – there were too many unpleasant memories of her time in hospitals, and this room reminded her far too much of them. Still, if Mo'at thought that this was the best place for her, she would stay here – at least for the moment.

As she drifted back off to sleep, Na'dia pondered on what she had been told. She had almost died – for a third time – and she had lost a child. It struck her now that her life as a Na'vi was real, with real consequences – both to herself and to the people she loved. She had been living her life as though it was a selfish dream, content to drift willy-nilly through the currents of life. If she continued down that path she could lose everything, unless she started to take responsibility for her actions.

Her last thought before sleep claimed her was a prayer to...Eywa, she supposed, to take care of the spirit of her lost child, and cherish it, as she had failed to do.


	43. Chapter 43

The next week passed very slowly. All Na'dia seemed to do was eat and sleep, and try and not rip her IV or monitoring leads off – it turned out the tape used to hold them on her skin brought out a rash on her, and she had to lay there on the bed doing her best not to scratch and rip the damn things off.

Much of the time one or another of her life-mates were with her, or if not them, Wokan, Ilyana and their children – accompanied by the palulukan cubs – who, remarkably enough, were very well behaved, unlike their normal selves. It seemed the cubs were being run ragged by Ralu and Tanhi, providing welcome relief for the human babysitters. One of the perennially bad poker players came in too, and thanked Na'dia from the bottom of his heart for bringing the two Na'vi children to Hell's Gate.

Nights were much better. She had forced the tawtute doctors to get rid of the gurneys so she could sleep on the floor, with Ninat and Txep'ean. It was strange, sleeping in absolute blackness without being able to hear the sounds of the forest, and her lovers found it hard to relax into sleep. But the reassuring sound of their heartbeats and breathing on either side of her made her feel content and happy. It was not right for a Na'vi to sleep alone.

After several days, Na'dia was getting to the point of breaking out of the decanting room, no matter what the doctors said. It was only the threat of Mo'at issued by Macdonald that kept her in her place. So she was surprised when Zhake and Ney'tiri visited her early one morning, when both of her life-mates had gone in search of food for her breakfast.

"Hey, sicko," teased Zhake, lifting his arm in greeting.

Ney'tiri nudged her mate in the ribs with her very sharp elbow, making him wince. It seemed that she had landed the blow on a slow to heal bruise – which, Na'dia wagered, she had put there in the first place. "Do not be so disrespectful to my sister," hissed Ney'tiri. "She has been ill, and needs our love."

"Be calm, Ney'tiri," said Na'dia. "Zhake means no harm, merely to make me smile." And she was smiling.

"What happened to the sexy Eastern European accent?" asked Zhake, a little disappointed. The few times he had heard Na'dia speak Na'vi her words had been overlayed with an unforgettable heavy accent that oozed sensuality, unlike any Na'vi that he had ever heard. For his question he received another jab in the ribs.

"Vot axxent? I zpeke vith no axxent," growled Na'dia in her huskiest voice, surprising herself that she could still assume the accents of her birth tongue, even if she could no longer speak it.

Both Ney'tiri and Zhake laughed, and Na'dia joined them.

"Seriously, though," said Zhake. "I'm glad you are recovering, because I need you on your feet and out of here. We are stripping Hell's Gate of all its movable equipment, as I expect the next assault to land here. I want you ready to fight in two days, if you can make it."

"I would leave today," said Na'dia, glancing at her sister. "If Mo'at allowed it. I am tired of lying here, and wish to be free to dance under the leaves of the forest."

"My Zhake wishes you to study tawtute sniper tac-tics," said Ney'tiri, stumbling over the unfamiliar word, "With our sister Ninat, so that you may be the best warrior that you can be." She held out a data tablet towards Na'dia.

"Yeah," agreed Zhake. "The heavies are going to be a different prospect from the light infantry you engaged on the plains. I need you to be aware of their capabilities, and the best tactics to use against them. I've loaded up a Marine training program on the tablet that you and Ninat can use. I've already given her a spotting scope and shown her how to use it." Zhake blessed his stars that Ninat had been one of the few Na'vi to attend Grace's school to have mastered the ability to read English. Otherwise, it would have been impossible for her to use the scope and its digital readouts effectively.

Na'dia had almost snatched the data tablet from Ney'tiri's hands. At last, something to do! She had been almost climbing the walls from sheer boredom – or would have, if she had been allowed to move away from her blankets. Belatedly, she thanked her visitors, holding the data tablet to her breast as though it might be taken away from her. "Irayo, my sister and my brother. I will learn these things well, so that I may keep our world safe."

Grinning, Zhake added, "I don't expect you will learn that much – palulukan can be pretty damn sneaky, and from your effort on the plains I suspect you could teach concealment and ambush tactics to the Marine scout sniper school. But you never know."

"Come, my Zhake," said Ney'tiri, pulling on his arm. "Our sister wishes us gone, so she can learn new ways of defeating the enemies of the People."

"Eywa ngahu," said Na'dia softly, as her two friends left her alone in the decanting room. As soon as the door shut, she switched the tablet on, and started flipping through the training program. It was interesting – very interesting – even when she had to go back to the beginning when Ninat returned from gathering fruit.

Mo'at did not release Na'dia from what had seemed like a prison for four days, not the two that Zhake had hoped for. She did not mind that much, though, as finally she had something to do. Zhake had highlighted sections that she should pay particular attention to – especially those regarding emissions control, concealment, materiel denial and engaging armoured targets.

Even Txep'ean found it interesting – although he had no intention of ever using firearms, he thought it was useful understanding the capabilities of their opponents. He commented that this would be even more challenging than hunting 'angitsa, especially as inexperienced and incautious hunters tended to end up as a muddy pink paste on the forest floor.

A group of humans was waiting outside the decanting room when she emerged into the daylight, blinking from the brightness of Alpha Centauri A. She shaded her eyes with one hand, brushing her complexly beaded braids aside from her face. Ninat had insisted on weaving the most elaborate beads, flowers and feathers into her hair before she would think of letting Na'dia up from her sickbed, so now her hair blazed with decorations of many different colours, and her body was decorated with jewellery as gorgeous and sophisticated as that worn by Ney'tiri.

A group of humans was waiting outside the decanting room. They nodded to her and Ninat respectfully, before rushing inside. It appeared that this was one of the last facilities that remained to be stripped of gear, and they had been waiting for her to be ready before starting work.

Ninat said, "Your pe'efghe is in the longhouse with your blades."

Pe'efghe? What the hell was a pe'efghe, wondered Na'dia, until she translated the sound in her head. It was, of course, her BFG, her modified GAU-90 sniper rifle. "We should go and practice, my love," suggested Na'dia.

Her lover nodded eagerly. She wanted to prove herself worthy of Na'dia's love – she had been much teased by Ney'tiri and Peyral when she chose the way of the gatherer rather than the hunter, and wanted to prove herself just as courageous a warrior.

The palulukan was waiting for them in the longhouse, looking rather disgruntled – if one could imagine a palulukan being disgruntled. Most people would call her extremely pissed. The reason for her dissatisfaction was evident – her computer console had been packed up and removed.

The huge predator signed, "I am glad to see you well again, cubling. I wished to see you, but could not fit through the small opening the humans call a door." She paused, before adding, "I considered making the door larger, but the thought of listening to the complaints of small round Max for days on end was too daunting. He can be very persistent."

Na'dia chuckled as she signed, "I too am pleased to see you, sensei. Is your mate well, and your cubs also?"

Her sensei snorted explosively. "He is always playing that stupid game with the humans. I cannot see the attraction, although he says the challenge is in the battle of minds, and the cloaking of intent with deception."

Ninat signed, "Is that not the challenge of war?"

The palulukan's head swung towards her student's mate in surprise, and examined her closely. Perhaps the cubling had chosen one of her mates well – she was more intelligent than the palulukan had thought, although the cubling's other mate was like all males. "You are right," signed the beast slowly. "Perhaps my mate is not as foolish as he appears."

The palulukan had never focused her entire attention upon Ninat – it was extremely intimidating being stared at by a child of Eywa that could snap her body in two as she would break a twig. But Ninat bore up under the glare of the palulukan, determined not to show any sign of fear. After about a minute, the palulukan nodded with apparent approval, and looked back towards her student.

"The one you call Ney'tiri asked me to direct you to the control tower, where her mate will brief you," signed the palulukan. It stood and started to flow out of the longhouse.

"Where are you going?" asked Na'dia.

The answer was simple. "To gather my brothers and sisters, to aid in the battle against the humans."

With a flourish of her tail, the palulukan left the building.


	44. Chapter 44

"We have a major disadvantage in the forthcoming battle against the tawtute," said Zhake. He was standing on the roof of the control tower addressing the most experienced warriors of the gathered clans. "They will be able to choose where they land, and with the numbers and weapons they will deploy will overwhelm any concentration we can gather against them. If we try to face them head to head on their initial landing they will defeat the People."

One of the older warriors from the Ikran people of the Eastern Sea gathered a round of laughter when he said drily, "How do we beat them, Toruk Makto? Talk them to death?"

Zhake gestured to Na'dia to step forward. "Some of you may have heard of Na'diakhudoshin. Less than a month ago, on the far plains, she slew one hundred and eighty-three tawtute warriors out of a force of three hundred and two, forcing the survivors to flee back into the sky."

There was a respectful murmur, with many of the largely male warriors gazing upon the petite Na'vi woman with total astonishment. How such a small woman could have created such bloodshed, they wondered, as her skin darkened with embarrassment.

"Na'diakhudoshin was the victor over seven days as she did not seek to challenge the tawtute in direct battle, but to use the skills of stealth, surprise and deception to bleed them dry, one by one," said Zhake.

"But this is not an honourable way to fight," complained one warrior, one of the youngest on the roof.

"Tell me, tsamsiyu," said Zhake, "What use is honour if the tawtute are victorious and despoil the forests of Eywa? What use is honour if your mate is widowed and your children go hungry?"

The older warriors grinned at the stupidity of the young Na'vi. They knew what the Toruk Makto was saying, but remembered that they, too, were once young and naive. That was why they did not laugh out loud, but still the skin of the young warrior darkened with embarrassment.

It seemed that objections to the manner of the forthcoming battle had been overcome. Na'dia wondered if the young warrior had been specifically chosen attend this meeting to prompt Zhake to ask those questions – if so, it was a masterly stroke of crowd manipulation, and set the scene for what he was about to say.

"Many of you fought in the battle of Vitraya Ramunong," said Zhake. "The weapons the tawtute bring to this battle will be even more terrible. That is why we will not face them in open battle, yet pick them off one by one, like stragglers from a herd of starving talioang."

"Is this why you take the tawtute things away from this place?" asked a deeply scarred plains warrior. "You will surrender this place to them, but make it worthless?"

The Toruk Makto grinned toothily. "That is the core of our battle-plan," he said, and proceeded to elaborate on what he intended. The warriors nodded solemnly as he talked, asking the occasional pointed question, but it seemed that all were in broad agreement with his proposals.

The sun was high in the sky when the meeting finally disbanded, the warriors of each clan returning to consult with their fellows. Na'dia had been trying to unobtrusively hop from one foot to the other – the metal roof of the tower had been heating up slowly under the heat of the sun, and was pleased to escape when Zhake called her over.

"You understand your part in this?" he asked.

She nodded. It was clear enough.

"Good," he said.

"I do have one suggestion," she offered. When he raised an eyebrow in inquiry she continued, "The tawtute do not know that we have passed through the Eye of Eywa. They will be searching for an active link unit, especially if they think they will capture either of us. Why do we not make it easy for them? They must broadcast some kind of traceable radiation."

"We are short of serviceable link units for the remaining Avatars," said Zhake. "I like the idea, but..."

"What of the units in the hab module near the Tree of Souls?" suggested Na'dia. "They may be damaged from the battle, but surely you could get them to radiate in the appropriate spectrum, and then, when the tawtute get too close..."

"Boom," finished Zhake. He nodded. "It is a good idea, and will discourage them from searching for the other link units. The module would have to be moved closer, of course. I do not wish to risk the Tree of Souls again."

"Zhake, how long do you think the tawtute will wait before they attack?" she asked.

The answer was brief and to the point. "Not long enough."


	45. Chapter 45

Na'dia was happy. After Mo'at had given her the all-clear, last night she had celebrated Uniluke with her sisters for the first time since leaving her sickbed, and was eagerly anticipating hours – no, days - of intensive lovemaking with Txep'ean and Ninat – at least if the tawtute did not crash her party. Knowing her luck, they would be sure to arrive today.

It had been over two weeks since the conference on the rooftop, and if it hadn't been for Ninat she would have been incredibly bored. They had been scouting sniper positions around Hell's Gate and prepositioning ammunition, to ready themselves for the inevitable tawtute assault, and practiced long range target shooting and rapid redeployment. The position where they were currently emplaced had the best overview of Hell's Gate, although it was not the most comfortable position. At least if they had to exit the position quickly, they could freefall down to the forest floor in a matter of less than thirty seconds.

But practice didn't fill up all the time, she thought with a smile. There were long periods where they had nothing to do but wait, eat or sleep, which left plenty of time for...Na'dia turned towards Ninat, who was scanning the concrete apron of Hell's Gate for activity through her spotting scope, and gently trailed one fingernail down the middle of her lover's back. Ninat shivered deliciously, and turned to Na'dia to say, "Wasn't Uniluke enough for you?"

"I'm hungry for affection," stated Na'dia. "And I seem to remember that someone else was insatiable last night."

Ninat was about to respond when she pointed into the air and said, "Look!"

Laser beam-like rays shot down from the sky and impacted on every single one of the turret guns mounted on the perimeter fence, blasting great holes in the barrier in a ripple of explosions. The shock waves hit them like multiple blows in the chest, and the tree they were occupying swayed in the unnatural wind.

It seemed that Zhake had been correct not to rely on the Hell's Gate defences. They had just been rubbed out, probably by kinetic strike weapons that Zhake had told them were called Thor's Hammer. The explosions themselves weren't that large – just incredibly precise. Not that the strikes were effective – the turrets had been stripped of functioning weapons weeks ago.

Na'dia started to curse under her breath. It looked like she was not going to get any opportunity to dally with Txep'ean tonight.

"There are many holes in the fence," said Ninat. "Zhake said this would happen."

Na'dia grunted in response.

"Did Peyral mention that Tareyu finally plucked up the courage to Choose?" commented Ninat.

Now that was interesting. "It's taken him long enough," answered Na'dia, scanning the skies for incoming tawtute vessels. "I thought she was looking particularly self-satisfied last night. When did this happen?"

"Yesterday," replied Ninat. "They were going to mate before Eywa tonight."

Peyral would be as angry with the tawtute as Na'dia – no, angrier. She had been waiting for months to mate with Tareyu, and here the tawtute come and mount their invasion, right when Peyral was about to get lucky. If any tawtute came within reach of her large sister today, they would be torn limb from limb. Na'dia chuckled to herself at the thought of a very horny and pissed off Peyral rampaging her way through masses of tawtute soldiers. They wouldn't know what hit them.

"Here they come," murmured Na'dia, and inserted her ear buds.

What looked like hundreds of glowing objects were rocketing through the sky towards them. Zhake had been right again – drop troops. The first of the ablative aeroshells was jettisoned, revealing what looked like an AMP suit – a heavily armoured AMP suit optimised for combat. A huge parachute deployed almost immediately, stopping the intimidating machine from plummeting to the ground.

Ninat called out the range, although Na'dia already had it dialled in. She flicked the BFG fire selector to single shot, breathed out and gently squeezed the trigger.

The thirty millimetre armour piercing round exploded from the barrel of the modified GAU-90, the encasing sabot falling away from the depleted uranium needle at the core of the round. The projectile flashed across the intervening two kilometres and impacted slightly to the right of centre of what one could call the chest of the AMP suit. The penetrator needle drilled through the dense armour, the strange quality of the DU round always ensuring that it retained its needle-like sharpness, while the shedding of kinetic energy heated the needle enormously, and generated a plasma of uranium atoms about the surface of the projectile. When the needle reached the oxygen-rich atmosphere of the interior of the AMP suit, it gave birth to an intense actinic flame, igniting the very air itself and vaporising the contents of the suit – including the unfortunate operator and the ordnance it was carrying. Needless to say, the AMP suit exploded and the huge parachute caught fire, but Na'dia hardly noticed - she had already switched her aim to the next target and fired another shot.

Na'dia's world shrank to a view of targets through her scope, and the soft tones of her lover calling out targets. But there were too many targets to service – they were arriving faster than she could shoot.

"Set ftang," said Ninat. Five AMP suits were on the ground. Their interdiction radar would be resolving the trajectory of her rounds even now, and be employing suppressive counter-battery fire within seconds. It was time to go. She flicked the fire selector to safe, grabbed the BFG by its sling and jumped. Ninat had launched herself from the tree half-a-second earlier. It was not a moment too soon. A rocket launched from one of the AMP suits before they hit the ground and impacted on their abandoned position, blasting flame and shrapnel through the canopy.

Ninat was wearing a smile as wide as her face through her colourful warpaint. "That was fun," she shouted, over the ripple fire of the rockets vaporising their shooting position as they ran out from under the falling debris.

"How many?" shouted Na'dia.

"Twenty-three kills, no misses," signed Ninat, as they slowed to a walk.

That was an excellent result, she thought, for an engagement that had lasted no longer than forty-five seconds. It was time to move to their next position.

Five minutes later they were in place. Ninat flicked on the shotgun mike attached to her spotting scope, and aimed it a group of AMP suits standing in the middle of the concrete apron, burning AMP suits scattered prone here and there amongst the intact versions.

"...the fuck was shooting at us?" demanded a scratchy, over-processed voice over Na'dia's earbuds. "You were supposed to have suppressed all the defences, and I got twenty-three KIA before I hit the dirt."

Another scratchy voice said, "I've analysed the weapon effects – the projectiles were thirty millimetre PGU-14/Z depleted uranium rounds. They cut through the armour like a hot knife through butter."

"Fuck!" said the first voice. "Did the counter fire get the prick?"

"We got him," said the second voice. "There is no way the fucker escaped."

"Well, establish the perimeter," ordered the first voice. "I may be commanding this clusterfuck but..."

Na'dia had identified the suit containing the first voice, and gently squeezed the trigger once again. She never found out what the first voice was going to do, because she and Ninat were falling to the ground again. This was going to get tiresome, only being able to take one shot before they had to bug out to avoid being shredded by return fire.

It was time to pull back, and let someone else have a go. After all, there were plenty of tawtute to go around, and she didn't want to be greedy. Besides, she was hungry. And horny.


	46. Chapter 46

The great crescent of Polyphemus shed its soft blue light through the night, matched by the soft bioluminescent glow of the innumerable plants of the forest understory. Na'dia had marvelled how difficult it was to see Na'vi in these light conditions – as though as their skin colour and tiger stripes were specifically designed for the Pandoran night – which of course they were, by the hand of natural selection. She was happy that now she benefited from the same camouflage.

She crawled to the edge of the forest to observe the enclosure of Hell's Gate, slithering on her belly.

Alone.

Ninat and Txep'ean were sleeping in a tree hollow miles away, but sleep had not claimed her tonight. That was why she was here, now. Na'dia hissed softly and bared her teeth as an AMP suit clumped around the inside of the perimeter fence. These AMP suits were not like the general purpose suits that the company had used around Hell's Gate and the mine.

No, these were specialised suits for the military, with heavier armour and a variety of weaponry mounted on their shoulders – ranging from rocket launchers and electrically powered Gatling guns to mortars and flamethrowers – let alone the auto-cannon built into their hands.

They were some serious fucking shit.

So were the Na'vi.

The metal monsters had been here for over two weeks, and she hated them for a passion, for taking her from her life.

Na'dia was not the only Na'vi that was consumed by hate. It turned out that the exhaust ports of the gas turbines that powered them were vulnerable to arrows, if the angle was exactly right. And one thing the Na'vi were able to do was shoot accurately. Now the tawtute never sent a patrol out with less than four AMP suits, and the forest was littered with abandoned AMP suits – some standing in groups like huge metallic garden gnomes.

The Na'vi had found it easy to open them up once their power was shut down, but they were not inclined to be merciful to their occupants, as many Na'vi had been torn apart by the brutal weapons of the tawtute.

The day after the invasion they had reinforced the drop troops with the light infantry she had sent running back to orbit with their non-existent tails between their legs. That was the last time they had tried to land a Valkyrie shuttle – Zhake had shot it down from the back of his ikran when it was climbing for altitude to return to orbit. She had joked that he should tattoo two shuttles on the neck of his ikran, just like the old time fighter pilots of Earth did with their aircraft. He had laughed with her, but it was clear from the sparkle in his eye that he was seriously wondering how it could be done, especially when she slyly suggested that three more would make him an ace.

Now they were resupplying Hell's Gate with high speed air drops, out of reach of the ikran. She wondered if their commanders had realised that they had lost the initiative. Zhake had told her of some place in South East Asia called Dien Bien Phu, where there had been a battle over months where natives had surrounded a European colonialist army and slowly crushed it into submission. He had told her that the colonialists had been beaten by logistics and the tyranny of distance.

The towers of the abandoned refinery were directly in front of her, the belching fumes and smokes that rose from the stacks long absent. Na'dia slithered through the grass to a gap in the wire, blown by the impact of the kinetic strike. There were no sparks of life near, and the over-confident fools had not placed motion sensors or tripwires on the gaps – her pe'dehayu confirmed the lack of electronic transmissions.

She flitted through the gap, walking like a ghost until she was surrounded by the rusting metal of the refinery. There it was, she thought – the cover to an entry to the service tunnels beneath the base. Na'dia squatted over the cover and twisted the handle to break the seal. Good, she thought, there was no hiss of air – the tawtute had not restored life support to the industrial area, so there was Pandoran atmosphere on both sides of the hatch, and she would have no trouble breathing. Na'dia lifted the cover up and slipped inside, hanging from the top rung of the steel ladder by one hand while she shut the hatch behind her. No-one had raised the alarm.

Na'dia let go and dropped down the shaft, landing like a cat in the tunnel below. The tunnel was dark – the battery power for the emergency lights had failed months ago, long before the tawtute invasion. That did not matter to her – she had memorised the layout of the tunnels, and she could smell and hear perfectly well – even in this alien environment.

She felt for the life sparks of creatures in her mind, but down here, beneath the concrete of the apron, the world felt dead. She could not even feel the ever-present pulsing of the forest all around her, which had been like the regular thump of her heartbeat. This is what it would feel like to be on Earth, and was a terrifying example of what the tawtute would do to her world.

At the end of the tunnel was another door. The indicator light showed that there was Earth atmosphere behind this door, but she had come prepared for this. Before she opened the door, she checked the small cylinder containing a mix of carbon dioxide and hydrogen sulphide under high pressure – she didn't want to be suffering from blood acidosis with its attendant disorientation, nausea and vomiting – and slipped on the exopack, the mask hissing slightly as the seal grasped the skin of her face. The air was going to feel thin and anaemic, but at least she wasn't going to be sick.

Na'dia breathed in twice, forcing her mind into emptiness, her muscles loosening. An observer would have seen her slowly fade out of view, more like a ghost, until there was nothing left other than a shimmer in the air. The door opened, and she entered the airlock, ducking down to avoid the door sill and drawing her hunting knife – the restrictive space of the base was going to make it too difficult to swing her swords, especially as taekkyon emphasised the cut rather than the thrust. The airlock cycled, and the inner door opened.

Drifting invisibly down the corridor, her sensitive ears flicked as she heard murmurs of conversation in English all around her. She passed the first active CCV camera, the red light burning itself into her brain, but there was no clamour of alarms and clatter of running boots. Na'dia had suggested to Zhake that they remove all the doors sealing the atmosphere in the base, but he had demurred. The olo'eyktan had wanted the humans to feel safe in their little bolthole, so that when they realised it was not safe, their morale would shatter.

Her breath hissing in her ears, Na'dia sidled through the bottom level corridors of Hell's Gate, life signs all about her. She rounded a corner to be faced with two soldiers conversing quietly. She swung her left fist, the tightly held hilt of her knife smashing into the fragile skull of the human, before she abruptly reversed the blow, plunging the blade deep into the side of his companion's neck and mercilessly twisting the blade before withdrawing it. The unfortunate male emitted a single bubbling gasp, slumping to the ground, his eyes bulging with horror as in his brief remaining second of life he realised he was dead.

Na'dia wiped both sides of her blade on her thigh, sheathed her knife, and almost threw the two corpses into the nearest room. She grinned ferally as she realised it was the sleeping quarters that she had briefly occupied on arriving at Hell's Gate, before she left it and the ruin of her human life forever. A low growl echoed through the bottom level of the Hell's Gate complex, instantly raising the hair on the back of the neck of every human that heard it.

The terrifying noise had only one meaning.

Death was here.

The veterans of the massacre of the plains knew what that growl meant. They had heard it stalking them in the open grasslands, sight unseen – until blood sprayed from corpses cleaved in two, right amongst them. They did not know how, or why – they just knew.

There was only one option open to them. They grabbed their weapons and ran, fleeing to the upper levels.

Those in the lower levels who had not been on the plains, and did not flee – they died. The screams of their deaths echoed through corridors, interrupted briefly by the staccato rattle of automatic weapons, and the futile bark of pistols.

Silence.

Someone with brains had shut down the elevators, and grabbed a crew-served Hydra tribarrel machine gun, mounting it to cover the stairway rising from below.

"What the fuck is down there?" whispered one of the impromptu gun crew. His voice carried down the stairwell to where Na'dia was lurking, just around a corner.

"You don't want to fucking know," answered the loader, his voice shaking with fear.

"If you can't tell me, what the fuck am I supposed to shoot at?"

"Listen, shithead," snapped the loader. "If you see a ripple in the air, or a trace of a shadow – shoot the entire fucking belt off – because that is all you will ever see. If you're really lucky, you may even live."

Before the gunner could reply, a squad came clattering up. The officer leading them stopped to ask, "What is down there?"

The loader replied, "The Ghoul, sir."

Snorting in disbelief, the officer said, "Fairy stories to frighten children. Finn, Hochmeister, Singh – get down there and take whatever it is out."

The three tough looking soldiers nodded. They cautiously moved down the stairwell in tactical formation, until the one in the lead fired his grenade launcher. Na'dia saw the grenade ricochet off the wall, and slipped into a side room – shutting the door just before the flash-bang went off.

Her ears ringing slightly, she was back in the corridor immediately, her knife in one hand and sword in another. The three humans came through at the same time, as she spitted one with her knife, went low, cutting the legs out from underneath the second with her sword, before reversing the cut to take off the head of the last man.

The head went rolling back into view at the bottom of the stairwell, as she howled in a chilling voice, "Ghooooouuul!"

Not a single shot had been fired.

The officer swallowed convulsively, before he ordered, "You three – get down there and find out what went down."

The man in front looked doubtfully at the other two 'volunteers' before he said sarcastically, "With all due respect, sir, why don't you fucking go look?"

Na'dia chuckled to herself, but enough was enough. They would bring some serious weapons soon, stuff that she couldn't handle, so it was time to bug out. The last thing she heard as she flitted back towards the airlock was the loader say, "Pretty fucking scary fairy story, sir."

She did not encounter any opposition during her exfiltration, although her heart was still pounding from the excitement of the kill. Na'dia knew now why the palulukan still relished the adrenaline of the hunt, even after thousands of years of life.


	47. Chapter 47

The hooves of the pa'li thundered on the ground as Na'dia forced it onwards at a gallop. The demon within her head demanded speed, ever more speed, until she commanded it to halt, the flanks of the beast soaked with sweat. She leapt from its back as it was sliding to a halt, landing on her feet into a crouch, tail held high, her balance perfect.

"Saaaaa!" she cried out triumphantly, the madness of the kill gleaming in her eyes.

Mo'at turned to greet her, and frowned, her ears laying back. "Zhake and Ney'tiri will be here soon," she advised the blood-stained warrior. It was clear as the moons in the sky that the palulukan was dominant in Na'diakhudoshin at this time – the gentle swok txe'lan dancer was almost totally buried under the bloodlust. The Tsahik of the Omaticaya knew that there was much good in this woman, but she feared for her soul, that she would lose herself in the frenzy of killing – killing those that she could have called brother or sister, before she passed through the Eye of Eywa.

Na'dia's lip curled back in disdain, and her tail lashed angrily. She did not want to be kept waiting – even by the person of Mo'at, to whom she owed her life. A palulukan did not wait for anything, except by her own will.

She was about to demand of the Tsahik how long she would have to wait, when her head flicked to the right, her fingers curling, almost into claws. She could feel her sister and Zhake approaching. "You were right, Mo'at," purred Na'dia, staring away from the older woman. "They are almost here."

Mo'at caught at Na'dia's hand - in reaction, Na'dia's head snapped back to the left, to gaze directly into her eyes. Under the penetrating gaze of the Tsahik, the red haze clouding her vision gradually cleared. After what seem like an eternity, Mo'at said softly, "Do not lose yourself, and become as those that burnt you, Na'dia. Maintain the balance between the palulukan and the dancer – your spirit is poised on the edge of a knife."

When Mo'at finally released her hand, Na'dia shuddered. "Irayo, Mo'at," she whispered. "It is too easy to forget."

"Come, walk with me," replied Mo'at, taking Na'dia's arm. She flicked a warning glance towards her daughter and Zhake, who had just entered the clearing. They hung back – apparently her daughter had managed to hammer enough sense into the new olo'eyktan that he now realised that matters of the spirit were just as important as those of the body.

The two Na'vi women – one carrying the strength of maturity and self-knowledge, the other the energy and the vitality of the young – walked slowly together through the forest, until they stopped at a watercourse. They stood there in silence for some time, gazing at the water, until Mo'at said, "I often watch water flowing to the sea. It reminds me of life. When a river is young, it rushes and bubbles in its hurry to get to its destination, whilst an old river runs deep and slow. But the sea does not care – it knows that all water will come to it, in time."

"Tsahik," said Na'dia. "I am troubled. How may I do this thing? How may I fight the tawtute, without becoming other than I wish? The People need me to fight, but I do not See how I can slay and kill and not become lost in the frenzy."

"Child, you have been Chosen by Eywa for a great task," replied Mo'at. She had been pondering this question for many weeks now, ever since Txep'ean had dragged her away from the Omaticaya camp to tend to Na'dia. The desperation of the love in his eyes had softened the hardness of her heart, steering her away from the fear of the strangeness of the path that Na'dia had taken. Eywa had laid a burden on Mo'at as well, to understand what was asked of the former dreamwalker. She had not Seen this at first, but Mo'at thought she understood the will of Eywa now, at least in this matter.

"To be both palulukan and Na'vi is a heavy burden, particularly when you were born neither one nor the other. Of course you find this troubling, but Eywa does not lay a burden upon one that is too heavy to carry. My answer to you is to be both – as I said before, maintain the balance between the conflicting halves of your soul." The Tsahik turned to look at Na'dia as she asked, "How long is it since you danced?"

The question struck Na'dia like a blow. She had not danced a step – neither ballet nor the katas of taekkyon – since the tawtute drop troops had occupied Hell's Gate. Instead, she had been totally focused on defeating those who would destroy her life, without realising that she was well on the way to doing that herself.

Mo'at nodded. The expression on Na'dia's face was answer enough. "I thought as much," commented the Tsahik drily. "The young often forget balance - as do the old, from time to time."

"Irayo, for your wise advice," thanked Na'dia. "I will treasure your words, and act upon them immediately."

To Na'dia's surprise, Mo'at laughed, shaking her head in amusement. She had never heard the Tsahik laugh before – the sound was wonderfully warm and rich, almost an audible equivalent of drinking hot chocolate with marshmallows. "The haste of the young," she commented, "Always in a rush to do everything." She shook her head again, and in a more serious tone added, "There is one other thing I would do in your place, Na'diakhudoshin. I would speak to your 'sensei' about these matters. She strikes me as being a sensible beast, for a palulukan, and you could garner much wisdom from her."

Her mouth dropped open in surprise at the unexpected advice – the Tsahik hated and feared the palulukan with a passion. Mo'at smiled kindly at Na'dia, and gently closed Na'dia's mouth with a finger under her chin. "Srane," said Mo'at. "Your ears are not deceiving you. I meant what I said." She turned away to return to the encampment, and then turned back, saying, "It is not only the young who can learn new things."

Na'dia, dumbstruck, watched the Tsahik walk away, chuckling no doubt at the foolishness of the young. She could never have predicted the words that had just been spoken to her. How could she? She sighed, and felt for the palulukan inside her mind, always aware of where her sensei was. Good, she thought – she was close, and although Mo'at laughed at her haste, there was no time for action like the present.

The palulukan was lounging in a hot spring, benevolently watching her cubs romp up and down the grassy sward surrounding the pool, her mate nowhere to be seen – although Na'dia could feel him watching over the domestic scene, a relentless yet somewhat disgruntled guard. Perhaps he was missing the perpetual poker games.

It seemed that the palulukan had become reconciled to the loss of her access to the internet. Na'dia had asked Max what she spent all her time researching – apparently she spent most of her time reviewing articles in the biological sciences. He said her frequent e-mails were written in a witty and very erudite literary form of English – almost like exchanging messages with Oscar Wilde, an author for which she had great admiration – and the various scientists to whom she addressed her questions had almost come to blows over who wrote the most elegant answers. It was, furthermore, a very much less intimidating form of communication with the palulukan, particularly for those whose sign language was not yet fluent. She was, after all, the most fearsome predator on the face of the planet.

The palulukan rumbled a greeting to Na'dia, but was clearly too comfortable to be bothered moving. Na'dia eased her way into the pool, her skin protesting at the heat of the hot spring water, even as her muscles relaxed and the dried blood washed off her body, until the bottom of the pool disappeared from underneath her feet. She swam across to where the palulukan was lounging, found a convenient place to prop herself, and joined her sensei in tsahaylu, with only her head visible above water.

"_Pool is relaxing. Cleansing."_

Na'dia agreed with the thoughts of her sensei. The hot pool was so enervating it was all she could do to maintain focus, so she could express her concerns regarding fighting the humans, and what it was doing to her sense of self. She could feel the palulukan listening to her thoughts with interest.

"_Self concurs with Mo'at. Na'dia is unbalanced. Even born selves do not become lost in thrill of hunt."_

The palulukan paused, deep in thought, considering her next words, as she languidly stretched and popped her spine. It was difficult for Na'dia to reconcile the palulukan's current state with what she had seen only a few days ago, when the palulukan and her mate had taken down four AMP suits deep in the forest. Working as a pair, they had ambushed the rearmost suit, using the impact of their combined weight to smash it to the ground on to its front. The palulukan had snapped a young tree off two feet above the ground, and thrust the slim trunk into the inlet port of the gas turbine. The blades of the turbine tore themselves apart against the hard timber, the turbine flaming out as the tree caught fire. They dealt with the other three suits in much the same manner, the entire combat over in less than ninety seconds. Na'dia had been very impressed by their skill, while the unfortunate operators burnt in their disabled AMP suits. Typically, the palulukan had signed that it was a waste of good meat.

"_War is difficult, even for selves. Killing is seductive. Self should watch Na'dia more, to make sure that she does not fall to trap of bloodlust. In life there are other things than death to celebrate - love of one's mate and cubs, stories, knowledge, and friends. Na'dia is both sad and angry at losing cub – do not become consumed by hatred. Remember how to dance and love, for the time to do both shall return."_

Mo'at and her sensei were right. She had been angry at losing her child, and had been taking out her anger on the tawtute. Perhaps she should take a little time off, and practice some katas. She always found walking the measures centred her, and then she could dally with Ninat and Txep'ean. But not right now – this hot spring was just too damn relaxing.

That was the last coherent thought that Na'dia had, before she slipped into restful sleep.


	48. Chapter 48

It was a long way down, thought Na'dia. It had been almost a week since she had ventured into the tunnels under Hell's Gate. She had heeded the advice from both her sensei and Mo'at, and had let others take up the battle against the tawtute, realising that she didn't have to kill them all off by herself.

It was indeed a long way down. Na'dia was perched alongside Ninat in the very top of an untamed Hometree, well out of range of the weapons at Hell's Gate. She had wanted to watch the next phase of Zhake's plan to crush the tawtute, modelled on the conduct of that long ago battle in South East Asia – Dien Bien Phu was the name, she seemed to recall.

He had said that the colonialists had tried to resupply by air, but the natives had cut that path, although they had not had an air force – unlike the Na'vi. He was planning to repeat their success, and Txep'ean had been chosen as one of his weapons to do so. Even now, Txep'ean was mounted on his ikran, soaring right at the top of a thermal with many other taronyu, thousands of feet above their normal ceiling. She had managed to make him out through the spotting scope, until Ninat had snatched it back with a grin, so now all Na'dia could see was a group of tiny dots far in the distance.

"He looks cold," said Ninat, shivering briefly in sympathy.

Na'dia snorted in disdain. The Omaticaya had no idea what real cold was like – real cold was the winter wind whipping across the open Ukrainian steppes. Now that was cold. Na'dia had tried to describe snow to her mates, who could not conceive of water falling solid from the air, until she had shown them how to make ice cubes in the freezer in the hab module Zhake was using as forward headquarters. She had then demonstrated some of the uses of ice cubes on her lovers, with no little glee. Na'dia smiled at the memory.

There it was. The Valkyrie shuttle, making its daily supply drop, flying high, well above the reach of the Na'vi and their weapons. The tawtute were taking no chances – not with the precious shuttles. A series of large objects fell from the rear door – five of them – huge cargo parachutes blossoming above them. As they floated down, steered by their guidance systems to land directly on the apron at Hell's Gate, the ikran at the top of the thermal peeled off, flying directly for the cargo drops.

Zhake had told the taronyu that they should use flaming arrows to set the canopies on fire, but it seemed that the fliers had other ideas.

Ninat gasped with horror, her eye fixed to the spotting scope.

"What happened?" demanded Na'dia, almost jumping up and down on the spot with anxiety, wanting to snatch the optical device from her lover so she could see.

"Txep'ean jumped from his ikran on to the huge seed," exclaimed Ninat. "He is sliding down one of the cords, to where the seed holds the tawtute things." She hissed to herself, whispering, "Be careful."

There were several moments of anxious silence, which were ended by Na'dia poking her lover with a finger and yelling, "Tell me!"

"My brother is cutting the cords – he has one hand holding him to the seed," said Ninat. "He has cut all the cords to the tawtute thing, and it falls."

Na'dia could see the cargo pod falling to the ground, rapidly accelerating. She estimated that the package would fall at least five klicks from Hell's gate, well out of the zone that the AMP suits managed to hold against the Na'vi.

Ninat sighed with relief. "Txep'ean has called his ikran, fallen from the seed and remounted," she announced, finally relaxing. "The others are doing as he has done – yes, all the tawtute things are falling to the forest."

"I'll kill him," growled Na'dia. "He will wish he is dead, when I have finished with him."

Laughing, Ninat demurred, "No, you won't, my love. You will hug and kiss my brother, and scold him for taking risks, all the while being so proud of his courage, especially that he was first to do this thing." She took her eye from the spotting scope, and added with a smile, "Although you are right in one way. He will be dead to the world after we have finished rewarding him for his bravery."

They scampered down the tree, arriving at Zhake's headquarters a little after the taronyu had arrived on their ikran. Zhake was listening to them wearing a stern expression on his face, but with a merry twinkle in his eye.

"...I am sorry, my olo'eyktan," apologised Txep'ean. "The air was too thin to support the flames in the little braziers, so I could not light the cloths on the arrows. I had to do something – I would have been ashamed to have failed. So I jumped. There was no real danger."

Zhake barked with laughter, and clapped Txep'ean on the shoulder. "Well done!" he said. "It would not have occurred to me, and it was probably more dangerous fooling about with the braziers. I think, though, it is not me to whom you owe an apology." Zhake pointed over Txep'ean's shoulder to Na'dia and Ninat, who were waiting not so patiently behind the group of ebullient taronyu.

"Oh," said Txep'ean, an expression of genuine dismay on his face. He had not thought his life mates would have been watching.

Strangely enough, what happened then was almost exactly what Ninat had predicted. When Txep'ean walked over to his life-mates to apologise, the two women hugged and kissed him, before telling him that he had been very stupid, and that they were very proud of him. Wisely, he did not protest his innocence or question the mixed message he was receiving, and reluctantly allowed himself to be dragged off into the undergrowth for extended scolding and make-up sex.


	49. Chapter 49

It had been over a week since the tawtute had attempted to drop supplies with the shuttle. The taronyu had excelled in the ability to intercept the cargo pods, and there was much competition between them, to see if any could bring down more than one pod in a single pass. Txep'ean was much honoured for bringing down three on one occasion, and on that same drop rescuing an inexperienced rider who had become helplessly entangled in the parachute cords.

The taronyu were grumbling about the lack of excitement now their new form of entertainment had been removed.

Now they were dropping supplies in aeroshells, but they only had a fraction of the capacity of the shuttle drops. Na'dia and Ninat had been tasked with shooting as many of them with high explosive and incendiary rounds as they could, so only about half of the aeroshells were reaching their target. Meanwhile, Ninat and Na'dia were getting very tired of leaping out of perfectly good trees to avoid the counter-battery fire, although the intensity of the response was starting to slacken. Zhake had said they must be running low on ammunition.

Zhake had decided it was time to draw out the tawtute. He had moved to the decoy headquarters that had been set up around the damaged hab module from the Tree of Souls. Na'dia had been correct in thinking that the link units could be made to operate after a fashion, transmitting fake signals to non-existent Avatars. Max had done the work to fix them up, and then told to get the hell back to the rear. That was one order he followed with alacrity.

Na'dia had deployed well forward with Ninat. However, she had been just a little bit naughty. She had got Max to give her the channel Zhake was going to broadcast on, and was watching it with Ninat on her rather battered but still functioning pe'dehayu – making sure the audio was directed to their earbuds.

Zhake's image appeared on the screen. He looked relaxed and comfortable as he said in English, "This is Zhake'soolly, commander of the Na'vi forces. Could you put your commanding officer on-line?"

"Just a moment," said the tawtute comms officer. The screen went dark, but not the audio, as the human said, "Hey, Boss! It's the traitor from the blue monkeys. You wanna talk to him?" It looked like standards had fallen somewhat over the months of the siege.

"Of course I want to talk to the fucker," said a distant voice. "Put me on."

The commander of the tawtute was unshaven, his eyes were red rimmed and deep sunken, and he looked as though he had not slept for several days. "Kennedy here. What is it?"

"I'm offering you the opportunity to surrender, before you lose any more lives," said Zhake coolly.

"What are the conditions?" demanded Kennedy.

"Immediate cease-fire, surrender your weapons, and the Na'vi will allow all your surviving personnel to be evacuated to orbit. I realise that you are not empowered to end hostilities, and I wouldn't trust the RDA to honour your word, but that's the deal."

"How long is the deal good for?"

"A day," replied Zhake.

"And if I don't accept the deal?"

Zhake's answer was cold. "Dien Bien Phu."

Kennedy nodded. It was clear he knew what the alternative was. "I'll think about it," he responded, and the screen went dark.

"And now we wait," said Na'dia.

They were about two klicks back from Hell's Gate, on the direct line of advance to the decoy headquarters. Zhake had told them their job was to bleed the tawtute as they came out, falling back as they could, and if the pressure got too hot, to run to the flank. He had told them there was no point in being heroes if they were dead, and emphasised that they were defending a decoy. He wasn't expecting a great deal of finesse from the tawtute – just brute firepower.

They didn't talk much in the hours after the communication. They just waited, wondering if Zhake had been wrong in his prediction. He wasn't – not about the brute firepower.

The world erupted in continuous explosions, the shockwaves ripping at their bodies. The only coherent thought that Na'dia had was to stay down, and hope that the endless concussions would end soon. It was not until after they ceased that she realised that the tawtute had used Thor's Hammer to clear their axis of attack, and that she had somehow survived the incredible barrage of firepower.

The forest around her was smashed into ruins, splintered trees standing drunkenly upright, and many fires were burning around them. Her field of fire was blocked by a fallen forest giant, and she turned to Ninat to tell her they must move position.

"Ninat!" she cried out. Her lover was lying crumpled on the ground, bleeding from the ears and nose. Fearing the worst, Na'dia checked her lover's pulse, to find a slow, strong heartbeat and no other visible wounds. She murmured, "Thank Eywa, you haven't left me."

Na'dia kissed her unconscious life-mate on the forehead, hoping that she would be safe, before dragging some broken branches over her body, camouflaging her to the casual viewer. She found her BFG – it was still intact – and slung a spare belt of ammo across her shoulders. Na'dia did not want to leave Ninat, but it was time to go, so she relocated fifty metres to the right, where she had a clear field of fire. She hadn't left it a moment too soon.

The whine and thump of approaching AMP suits alerted her to the tawtute attack. She glanced over the fallen tree trunk she was using for cover to see a mixed force of suits and light infantry advancing in open order through the dust and smoke. Thanking the stars Zhake suggested carrying a mixed belt of HE and AP ammo, she flicked the fire selector to three round bursts. This wasn't the time for methodically fired single shots. She had ammunition, and it was time to use it.

Her first three bursts sought out the closest suits and left them brewing up, columns of greasy smoke spiralling into the air as their ordnance exploded like Fourth of July fireworks. Na'dia scarcely noticed the bruising of her shoulder from the recoil of her weapon.

Her next few bursts found a group of light infantry out of cover, the HE rounds turning them in to pink mist while the AP shots merely blowing limbs off them. The few survivors started to return fire, and she decided it was time to move. She had hardly taken ten strides when she heard the coughing of mortars being fired, and she flung herself to the ground, only to scream in agony as a white hot chunk of jagged metal buried itself in her thigh, the disgusting smell of burning flesh filling her nostrils. She glanced down her side to see the metal hissing in her flesh. Her fingers clamped around the metal fragment, heedless of the burning. She yanked the piece of shrapnel out, arterial blood spraying, whimpering from the pain.

Na'dia removed the meresh'ti cau'pla from her belt and wrapped it around her thigh, applying pressure to the open wound and clamping the ragged edges tightly together. The Velcro-like sticky hairs on the frond would make sure it would not move, and blood loss would be kept to a minimum. She stuck her head up to check her surroundings, only to duck back down as a ripple of mortar shells bracketed her position, to be followed by a gaggle of light infantry charging her position, only for a flight of ikran to flit across her viewfield and cut half of them down with bowshots. She dragged the BFG to the firing position, and eliminated the remainder of the charging tawtute.

It was time to move again. Na'dia got up and staggered back along the axis of the fire zone, her wounded leg almost collapsing underneath her. She gritted her teeth, and kept on going, coughing and choking on the smoke and dust of battle.

More AMP suits appeared, so she flopped down again and took them out, the belt of ammo gone as she eliminated the last of the group. Ripping the spare belt from around her neck, she jammed it into the ammo chute and pulled back the cocking lever. Na'dia had no idea where she was, or where she and Ninat had planted ammo caches. A combination of rocket and mortar fire fell across her position again, the concussion tearing at her body, but this time she wasn't hit – Eywa knew how. All she wanted to do was to get clear, and let the tawtute past her, but there were so many of them she couldn't break contact.

Another wave of AMP suits and infantry surged forward. There were too many this time. Na'dia flicked the selector to full automatic fire, and hosed the attackers down, littering the gentle slope below her with broken machines and bodies, until the BFG firing pin clicked on an empty breech. She tossed the useless gun away, drew her swords, and ran screaming into the attack. She could not focus to hide herself, but somehow managed to avoid being struck by the hail of fire that was directed towards her.

Then she was among them. Limbs and heads leapt off bodies as Na'dia weaved an intricate pattern of flashing blades about her. An AMP suit clumped towards her, unable to fire due to the groaning wounded at her feet. She dropped her blades and sprang at the metal monster, surprising the operator, slapping a grenade in the vulnerable hip joint, and flipping away. The grenade detonated with a dull thud – she caught some hot fragments in her back from the small explosion – and the suit slowly toppled to one side.

Her position was clear of enemy – except for the wounded and dying. Now was the time to get clear. Na'dia took two steps towards her deserted blades, only for a mortar shell to land feet away. She gazed stupidly at the shell protruding from the ground when it exploded. The concussion flung her several body lengths away, leaving her dazed and groaning on the ground, but otherwise unharmed.

A toe dug under her shoulder and flipped her on to her back, three dark shapes standing over her.

"Hey look, Yago," said one of them, keeping his assault rifle trained on her torso, "A blue warrior chick with mega tits. Shall I off her, or just fuck her to death? There's been precious little poontang on this trip, and I always wanted to catch some alien pussy."

"No, stupid," said a shape with a strong Hispanic accent. "She's one of ours - an Avatar – see, five fingers. Command will want to question her."

"Yeah," said the third. "With your luck with women you'd get the alien clap from this bitch. We're doing you a favour."

Before she could gather her wits to resist, they fastened restraint straps around her ankles and wrists, and summoned an AMP suit to carry her back to Hell's Gate. Her heart was filled with despair, at least until the whole side of the mountain exploded in a colossal roar, sending a huge plume of smoke and dust into the air. It looked as though Zhake's plan had worked – the tawtute had fought through to the decoy headquarters, and set off the trigger on the door of the hab module. A year's supply of mining explosives certainly made a big bang.

The AMP suit dumped her aching body outside the decanting room. The operator must have radioed ahead news of her capture, as two orderlies dragged her through the doors into the place where she had been healed only a few weeks before.

"Why hello, Dr Khudoshin," said the man she recognised behind his exopack as Kennedy, the tawtute commander. He grinned ferally. "It is such a pleasure to finally meet you."

He followed up his words of greeting with a hard driven kick into her belly, the shock driving the air out of her lungs.

"We're going to have so much fun together, while you tell me everything you know, you fucking traitorous bitch."


	50. Chapter 50

"Oe ka plltxe 'ìnglìsì, ketuwong faheu kawng," she groaned. Na'dia was sure her ribs were cracked, and she was bleeding profusely, from both her shrapnel wounds and the stripes from the beating being delivered right now.

Kennedy laid into her again with a knout and his steel-capped boots, yelling, "Speak fucking English, you cunt!" He stopped hitting her, breathing hard, and leant over her saying, "If you don't, I'll keep you awake until you go fucking insane."

If she hadn't been hurting so much, Na'dia would have laughed. Instead, she spat in his face, and snarled, "Tawtute tikawng, oe mun'i nga txe'lan." She pictured her hand tearing his still beating heart out of his chest – it was the dearest wish she had ever felt, to crush it between her hands as he died in front of her.

Kennedy lashed out with his boot again, catching her in the ribs again. She was right – there was definitely at least one broken rib there. "Get me the fucking Avatar driver!" he yelled to the air. "I need someone who can speak fucking blue monkey! Now!" He wiped the bloody spittle from his face, leant over her and whispered, "You think you're so tough, Khudoshin. You have no fucking idea what is going to happen to your precious monkey suit, and I'm going to keep you in it while I do it to you."

They still didn't know that she was no longer a dreamwalker.

A female Avatar in human clothes stepped through the outer door, and gasped in horror at the brutal scene, holding her hand to her mouth.

"What is it?" barked Kennedy, turning toward the intruder. "This?" he gestured at Na'dia's bleeding body. "I'm just making authorised use of RDA property. She isn't really here, you know. The bitch is safe in a link unit somewhere, and I want to know where it is. The blue shits have to pay for killing half my remaining men today."

This was the moment she had been waiting for – the moment Kennedy's attention was distracted. There was something else that he did not know. The restraints used on her wrists and ankles were designed for use on humans, and Na'vi were four times stronger than the strongest humans. She flexed her broad shoulders, arms straining at the restraints, until the restraints suddenly gave way with a crack.

Kennedy turned towards the unexpected sound, as she lunged for his ankle, catching it in her grasp. Na'dia gripped hard, feeling the fragile bones crush between her fingers, listening with exhilaration to his ululating scream of agony. She yanked his leg out from underneath him, dragging the feeble human towards her. She grabbed his other flailing ankle and brought her knees to her chest, trapping his head between her bound feet. Na'dia breathed in deeply, ignoring the agony from her broken ribs, and explosively straightened her body, ripping Kennedy's head clean off his shoulders.

The Avatar backed away, screaming as blood splashed everywhere. Too bad. Ripping Kennedy's head off using nothing but her brute strength was almost as good as tearing the heart out of his chest. She bent over to release her ankle restraints, ignoring the gore, and stood, a little shakily, but still upright. Na'dia could see the Avatar was going to be useless, so she ignored the woman, going for the Na'vi exopacks mounted on the wall. She quickly donned one, and opened the airlock door into the Avatar receiving room.

She opened the inner door just as an armed human were reaching for door. Na'dia snatched the automatic rifle from his feeble hands, and smashed his skull in with the butt. "Ghoooouuul!" she howled, in total battle frenzy, and faded from view.

Na'dia rampaged through the control tower, spraying the tawtute with automatic rifle fire, killing without mercy. As soon as she emptied a magazine, she would snatch up another weapon from a corpse and use that to kill. She was unstoppable, a living embodiment of blood vengeance. Indeed, the corridors truly ran with blood as she climbed through the levels of the alien building, until she entered the control room.

There were only three soldiers there. She was down to a Wasp pistol, but it was good enough for her purposes. Three shots, and their heads exploded over their consoles. Exhaustion suddenly hitting her, she stumbled over to a communications console, and punched up the channel that Zhake had used to offer terms of surrender to the tawtute.

A surprised-looking Zhake appeared on the screen.

"Zhake," called Na'dia. "Listen. No time. Kennedy is dead. I killed him, and many in the control tower also. The tawtute have lost over half their number, and are weak and confused. You must attack now."

Zhake nodded, and cut the call. That was good enough for her.

Na'dia gathered the weapons from the three dead soldiers, and set herself in a position where she could cover the door from a seated position, her back propped against the wall. She could do no more.

Some tawtute had tried to retake the control room, but she had killed them as they came through the door. Na'dia had checked her ammo – she was down to half a magazine, but she was too weak to crawl over to the bodies in the doorway to recover their weapons. In any case, she was drifting in and out of consciousness, and couldn't really lift the assault rifle to fire it. It didn't really matter, not at all. She would be dead soon, and at peace.

Na'dia wished that she could see Ninat and Txep'ean again, just one more time.

She opened her eyes to see Txep'ean leaning over her. "Ma oe kerusey?" she asked softly. Na'dia felt as though she should be dead, although she couldn't figure out why Txep'ean was wearing an exopack.

"Kea yawne," he answered, and she smiled, happy at last.

Na'dia felt him pick her limp body up in his arms, and carry her many steps, but she could not see where he took her, for her eyelids were too heavy to hold open. She just held her arms around his neck, and did not feel any pain.


	51. Chapter 51

Everything hurt.

Everywhere.

She tried to cling to the safety of sleep, where there was no pain. It was not possible. Instead, she surfaced inexorably from the deep waters of Lethe, emerging into the soft green light of wakefulness. Na'dia's eyes blinked once, twice, and then cleared, to focus on the face of Mo'at. From the sights and sounds that filtered slowly through her brain, it appeared that she was back in the camp of the Omaticaya.

"I See you, Mo'at," she mumbled.

Mo'at smiled triumphantly. "And I See you, my child." She added disingenuously, "We shall have to stop meeting like this. The People will accuse you of getting hurt so that you may monopolise my attention."

Na'dia couldn't help herself, she had to laugh. And her ribs hurt so much too. It was only when she stopped laughing that she realised the appellation that Mo'at had used – a Tsahik only called one 'my child' if she was a member of the same tribe. "The tawtute?" she asked, in an attempt to distract herself from that knowledge, and crush down her hopes.

"The humans have gone," advised Mo'at, "Thanks, in no small part, to you."

Na'dia was about to protest when the olo'eyktan of the Omaticaya appeared by her bedside. "Mo'at is correct," asserted Zhake, smiling down at her. "Your name is being entered into the songs as one of the greatest warriors of the clan."

"But I am not Omaticaya!" she objected, struggling to sit up. She felt so very weak. Zhake and Mo'at helped her up, propping wads of plant material behind her back to support her.

"I'm afraid you are," said Zhake, his eyes twinkling with good humour. "Any warrior who takes an Omaticaya woman to mate becomes Omaticaya. It has been our clan custom, for as long as there are memories and songs. Not even the Toruk Makto can make an exception, even for one who delights in breaking so many customs as you."

"Ninat!" she said longingly, and tried to get to her feet.

"Shhh, my child," scolded Mo'at, pushing her back down with little effort. "Ninat is gathering food for the clan. She will return before sunset." The Tsahik coloured slightly as she added, "As will Txep'ean, your other life-mate." It seemed that she still found the thought of having two mates rather shocking.

"Could you tell me what happened?" asked Na'dia. Her memories of the battle were confused and jumbled, and she had no idea what had gone down around her.

Mo'at excused herself from the retelling of the battle, as she had other wounded to care for, and once she was gone Zhake began to talk. He had been as surprised by use of the Thor's Hammer missiles as Na'dia had been, expecting only an assault with the heavy weapons mounted on the AMP suits. It seems that they had swallowed the deception hook, line and sinker, believing that the decoy hab module held the link unit for Zhake. There was a belief that the Na'vi resistance would collapse without his presence.

So the humans ploughed the road using the kinetic strike weapons, expecting that it would be a cakewalk. However, they ran straight into Na'dia with her BFG. He told her that she held them up for fifteen minutes, allowing Zhake enough time to reorder his forces and provide sufficient resistance so the humans swallowed the bait. He offered to show her video footage of her engagement filmed from the human side, but she declined. Zhake laughed, telling her that she did a brilliant job, although she had to work on the whole concept of breaking contact with the Op-force. It seemed to be a blind spot she had.

After she was captured, the humans pushed through up to the hab module, inflicting some casualties on the defending Na'vi, but they managed to disengage and get beyond the projected lethal blast radius. Only a couple of humans in the assault survived the explosion when some poor sap opened the hab door.

After Zhake got the message from Na'dia, he organised an impromptu assault on Hell's Gate. The humans were disorganised by the loss of their command structure, and the combined Na'vi and palulukan forces just rolled right over the top of the human defenders.

Zhake said drily, "The palulukan was most impressed when she watched the video of you pulling Kennedy's head off. She thought it showed excellent improvisational skills, worthy of one of her cubs." He grinned, adding, "I threw up when I watched it. You damn well scared the shit out of me."

Na'dia felt queasy, asking, "Did I really pull his head off?" It all seemed like an unpleasant dream.

The olo'eyktan of the Omaticaya nodded solemnly. "Every human and Na'vi has seen what Kennedy did. We showed the video to the humans before they left on their starship, to let them know what we thought of the character of their leaders." He added with a smile, "Everyone was vastly impressed at your knowledge of Na'vi invective, though."

Her face growing hot, there was no other response she could give other than, "Oh."

He continued, "I made something for you." He held up what looked like a child's rattle – which he confirmed by shaking it, the contents of the rattle making a pleasingly harsh sound. "The rattly bits are all the pieces of metal Max and Mo'at pulled out of you. I thought you would like a reminder of your courage, and your total inability to take cover under fire. I hope your children will learn from your sterling example."

She gasped as she tried not to laugh at his droll expression, but failed. "S-stop it," she complained, clamping her elbows to her ribs. "Stop trying to make me laugh. It hurts."

"Seriously," said Zhake in English. "You are one scary motherfucking warrior-bitch. I would be honoured to have you on point in any unit I served in."

Na'dia smiled at the leader of her clan. "Irayo, Zhake'soolly, for your fine words," she said. "But I would rather be a dancer than a warrior." It was true – she had seen enough blood to last her a lifetime.

"You know," commented Zhake, switching back to Na'vi. "I have never seen you dance. If you dance half as well as you fight, it would be really something to see."

"I would like that," said Na'dia, and yawned. She made an effort to stay awake just a little longer, asking, "Do you think the humans will try again?"

"Not for a while," answered Zhake.

That was a good enough answer for Na'dia, at least for the moment, and she drifted off.

Na'dia dozed fitfully through the afternoon, until she felt someone watching her sleep. She opened her eyes to see Ninat and Txep'ean by her side, their eyes looking suspiciously bright.

"I'm very angry with you," said Ninat, smiling at her lover. "You left without saying farewell."

Her eyes grew hot with tears, as she groped for Ninat's hand, and squeezed it with the little strength she could summon. "I'm sorry," said Na'dia. "There wasn't time, but I'll never leave you again – either of you."

"I know," said Ninat softly, and leant over to kiss her on the forehead.

Txep'ean was being his usual self and saying nothing, so Na'dia turned her head and told him, "Thank you for coming to get me, Txep'ean."

He growled, "It was nothing."

Ninat clipped the back of her brother's head with the edge of her hand. "Don't you believe him, Na'dia," she said. "Txep'ean led the assault, and took out three AMP suits by himself, using nothing more than his fighting staff. Peyral told me all about it."

"How could I do less," said Txep'ean, "When my mate sets such an example? My actions were hardly selfless – I wanted my Na'dia back." When Ninat glared at him, he corrected himself with a grin. "I mean _our_ Na'dia."

"Are our sisters well?" asked Na'dia. "Zhake told me nothing of them."

"Ney'tiri was unhurt, but Peyral cannot sit down," said Txep'ean. "She was shot in the butt in the final assault, and has been complaining bitterly ever since. She still has not mated with Tareyu before Eywa, and will not be able to until the wound heals."

Na'dia somehow managed to suppress a giggle, managing to quip, "So as well as being a pain in the ass, now Peyral has one."

Her life-mates laughed softly at her joke, bad though it was, and Ninat said, "The wound was not that serious, but it was a through and through and through and through."

"Ouch!" exclaimed Na'dia in sympathy for her sister.

"There is someone here who wants to meet you," said Ninat. She gestured to someone out of Na'dia's view.

A woman in Na'vi dress came forward, and said awkwardly, "Oel ngati kameie, Na'diakhudoshin."

Na'dia frowned – she had seen the woman somewhere before, when she realised that she was an Avatar and exclaimed, "You were the uniltìranyu in the decanting room."

The Avatar nodded, and said, "Dr Jessica Fleming. I wanted to apologise to you, for not helping." Her Na'vi was stilted and overly formal, but quite understandable.

Na'dia hardly noticed her two lovers slipping away, when she replied, "You did help me, Zhess'ika. If you had not come in when you did and distracted Kennedy, I could not have escaped."

The dreamwalker shuddered at the memory Na'dia's words evoked. For that matter, Na'dia didn't particularly remember the events of that day either, so she tried to distract the uniltìranyu by asking, "Zhess'ika, why did you decide to stay?"

The woman smiled gently. "You make my name sound so attractive," she said wistfully. She took a deep breath to continue, "I'm a pharmacologist – I wanted to work on medicinal properties of Pandoran plants. But this world..."

"I know," said Na'dia. She knew exactly what this woman was thinking. She had thought exactly the same thoughts. "It is very beautiful. Not ugly like Earth, though it is fraught with danger."

"How did you survive?" asked Zhess'ika. "I mean, Ninat told me what you have been through. How could anyone survive?"

There was only one answer Na'dia could give. "I fell in love."


	52. Chapter 52

It took almost a month for Na'dia to fully recover from her wounds, and even now she felt as weak as a kitten. The first day she was up on her feet, Zhake had presented her with her swords and her BFG, and promptly told her off for losing her gear and not keeping it clean and in good working order. He handed her a cleaning kit, and she spent the next three days removing the blood, dirt and grime off them, until they gleamed as bright as though they were fresh off the production line.

When Ninat complained how cruel he was to his face, he gave her the spotting scope she had thought lost on the battlefield, and was given exactly the same message. Ninat had to stumble her way through the maintenance manual before she could get the scope working to specs again.

Na'dia reflected at least she had pleasant company while she completed her punishment detail. Txep'ean, the unhelpful lug, had just grinned and shook his head. He knew how much trouble he could be in if he even dared to say a single word.

The first time Na'dia returned to the riverbank to reacquaint herself with her katas with both Txep'ean and Ninat in tow, it seemed as though the entire clan was there watching her. She had felt terribly self-conscious, as though she was a teenager again dancing at her dance studio's annual concert. Then again, she really was a teenager, she supposed. She had asked Max to confirm her equivalent human age, and was not surprised to be told sixteen. No wonder she felt so shy, although once she started on her katas, she felt the sense of calmness descend on her, just as it always had.

That evening, Na'dia had gone through the ceremony of rebirth as an Omaticaya. She teared up right in the middle of the most solemn part, when the entire clan laid hands upon her, recognising her as a part of each of them. It only got worse, when afterwards Ninat sang a new song before the entire clan – the song of the palulukan girl from beyond the sky. A part of her wanted to crawl into a hole and die of embarrassment, but she was so proud of belonging to something larger than herself she almost burst with joy. Not only that, the song was not only beautiful and sad, it was triumphant as well – especially the way that Ninat sang. The range and timbre of her voice was – well, inhuman.

Afterwards, Na'dia was sitting with her sisters of the tsumuke'awsiteng, glowing with happiness. There was only one cloud on her horizon.

"You know the humans will try to return," she said.

Ney'tiri said, "I know. Zhake, my mother and I discussed this with your sensei while you were recovering from your wounds."

"And?" asked Na'dia. She would have loved to have been a fly on the wall during that discussion.

"It turns out the palulukan already had a solution that she had developed with Max and his team," answered her sister. "They have made an illness that is lethal to humans, and released it into our atmosphere." At Na'dia's expression of concern, Ney'tiri added, "Don't worry – all the remaining humans have been given the cure already, so our humans will not even get sick. Any that come now will catch the disease and quickly die a painless death, unless we give them the cure. They only need to expose their skin to our air to become ill. Zhake told the captain of the starship of this before it left our star system, although I do not think he was believed."

The solution sounded exactly like one that the palulukan would embrace – effective, and as ruthless as all hell. It seemed appropriate, somehow.

"That will not stop them," said Ninat. "Only delay them for a while. I know how unrelenting the tawtute can be." She smiled at her lover as she said this.

"Yes," said Peyral, missing the double entendre completely. "The tawtute could invade us with an army of dreamwalkers, and then where would we be?"

"I am not so worried about the prospect of an army of uniltìranyu," responded Ney'tiri. "It turns out they have a habit in falling in love when they come here, as both Ninat and I can attest. I am more worried about the threat we cannot foresee, for the tawtute are both inventive and devious."

"You can say that again," murmured Ninat, her face turning dark as she gazed at Na'dia with lust in her eyes.

"Hey!" objected Na'dia, as she threw a piece of fruit at her lover.

Ninat had excellent reflexes. She caught the missile in one hand, stuck her tongue out at her lover, and then took an insolent bite out of the succulent purple fruit.

The sisters all burst into laughter, and their discussion continued late into the night.

Na'dia and Ninat wandered back to their sleeping platform with their arms wrapped around each other's waists.

"Do you think Txep'ean will still be awake?" asked Na'dia.

"He won't mind if we wake him up," answered her life-mate. "Not if you are thinking the same thing I am."

"I would have to make the bond with you to find out what you were thinking," teased Na'dia. "And then Txep'ean will get grumpy if we don't include him in tsahaylu."

"You come up with the best reasons for having sex," said Ninat contentedly. "Are all tawtute as randy as you?"

"I don't know," answered Na'dia. "I haven't met all the tawtute. There are too many of them." Would they return again under the banners of war? Na'dia shivered at the thought of their numbers, even from five light-years away.

Ninat felt her lover's body stiffen at the thought of the challenges that lay ahead. "Don't worry, my love," she said, and kissed her warmly on her lips. "Eywa will provide. You'll see."

It turned out that Ninat was right. She did.

THE END.


End file.
